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713 


LOUISE  AND  FELIPE 


He  led  me  out  on  the  balcony  of  the  palace 
"where  we  are  and  from  which  we  can  see  a 
part  of  Rome, — there  his  language  was  worthy  of 
the  scene  which  offered  itself  to  our  eyes;  for 
there  was  a  superb  moonlight.  As  we  already 
speak  Italian,  his  love,  expressed  in  this  language 
so  soft  and  so  suitable  for  passion,  appeared  to 
me  sublime.  He  said  to  me  that,  *  *  * 


THE    NOVELS 


OF 


HONORE  DE  BALZAC 


NOW   FOR   THE    FIRST   TIME 
COMPLETELY   TRANSLATED    INTO    ENGLISH 


MEMOIRS  OF  TWO    YOUNG   WIVES 

BY  WILLIAM  WALTON 


WITH    FIVE    ETCHINGS    BY    ADRIEN     NARGEOT    AND 
CHARLES-HENRI  TOUSSAINT,  AFTER  DRAW- 
INGS   BY   ADRIEN   MOREAU 


IN  ONE  VOLUME 


*  °              -*     1 

;>'' 

'•J  -\ 

PRINTED  ONLY  FOR  SUBSCRIBERS  BY 

GEORGE   BARRIE   &   SON,   PHILADELPHIA 


COPYRIGHTED,    1896,  BY  G.  B.  4   SON 


MEMOIRS  OF  TWO  YOUNG  WIVES 


189937 


TO  GEORGE  S/tND 

This,  dear  George,  will  add  nothing  to  the  splen- 
dor of  your  name,  which  on  the  contrary  will  throw 
its  magic  reflection  over  this  book ;  but  there  is  in 
this,  on  my  part,  neither  calculation  nor  modesty. 
I  wish  thus  to  bear  witness  to  the  true  friendship 
which  has  continued  between  us  during  our  travels 
and  our  separations,  notwithstanding  all  our  occu- 
pations and  the  wickedness  of  the  world.  This 
sentiment  will  doubtless  never  change.  The  com- 
pany of  friendly  names  which  will  accompany  my 
compositions  serves  to  mingle  a  pleasure  with  the 
pains  which  their  number  causes  me,  for  they  are 
not  produced  without  trouble,  to  speak  only  of  the 
reproaches  drawn  upon  me  by  my  menacing  fecund- 
ity, as  if  the  world  which  presented  itself  before 
me  were  not  still  more  fecund.  Will  it  not  be  fine, 
George,  if  some  day  the  antiquary  of  perished  liter- 
atures should  find  in  this  company  only  great  names, 
noble  hearts,  saintly  and  pure  friendships,  and  the 
glories  of  this  century?  Can  I  not  show  myself 
more  proud  of  this  certain  happiness  than  of  an 
always  doubtful  success  ?  For  him  whom  you  know 
well,  is  it  not  a  happiness  to  be  able  to  call  himself, 
as  I  do  here, 

Your  friend 

DE  BALZAC 

Paris,  June,  1840. 

(3) 


MEMOIRS  OF  TWO  YOUNG  WIVES 

I 

LOUISE  DE  CHAULIEU  TO  RENEE  DE  MAUCOMBE 

Paris,  September. 

My  dear  Iamb,  I  am  abroad  also,  I  am !  And,  if 
you  have  not  written  to  me  at  Blois,  I  am  also  the 
first  at  our  pretty  rendezvous  of  correspondence. 
Do  not  let  your  fine  black  eyes  rest  too  long  on  my 
first  phrase,  and  keep  your  exclamations  for  the 
letter  in  which  I  confide  to  you  my  first  love.  One 
is  always  hearing  of  the  first  love;  there  is  then  a 
second?  "Silence!"  you  will  say  to  me;  "tell  me 
rather,"  you  will  ask  me,  "how  you  came  out  of 
the  convent  in  which  you  were  to  take  your  vows?" 
My  dear,  whatever  may  happen  to  the  Carmelites, 
the  miracle  of  my  deliverance  is  the  most  natural 
thing.  The  cries  of  a  terrified  conscience  ended  by 
overcoming  the  orders  of  an  inflexible  policy,  that 
was  all.  My  aunt,  who  did  not  wish  to  see  me  die 
of  consumption,  vanquished  my  mother,  who  con- 
stantly prescribed  the  novitiate  as  the  sole  remedy 
for  my  illness.  The  black  melancholy  into  which 
I  fell  after  your  departure  hastened  this  happy 

(5) 


6  MEMOIRS  OF 

denouement  And  I  am  in  Paris,  my  angel,  and  I 
thus  owe  to  you  the  happiness  of  being  there.  My 
Renee,  if  you  could  have  seen  me,  the  day  on  which 
I  found  myself  without  you,  you  would  have  been 
proud  of  having  inspired  such  deep  feeling  in  so 
young  a  heart  We  had  dreamed  so  much  together, 
unfolded  our  wings  so  many  times  and  lived  so  much 
in  common,  that  I  thought  our  souls  were  soldered 
together,  one  to  the  other,  like  those  two  Hungarian 
girls  whose  death  was  related  to  us  by  Monsieur 
Beauvisage,  who  certainly  was  not  the  man  of  his 
name :  never  was  the  physician  of  a  convent  better 
chosen.  Were  you  not  ill  at  the  same  time  as  your 
darling?  In  the  dull  depression  in  which  I  was,  I 
could  only  recognize  one  by  one  the  bonds  which 
unite  us;  I  believed  them  broken  by  separation,  I 
was  filled  with  disgust  for  existence  like  a  turtle- 
dove who  has  lost  its  mate,  I  found  it  pleasant  to 
die,  and  I  was  dying  quite  pleasantly.  To  be  alone 
in  the  Carmelites,  at  Blois,  in  the  fear  of  taking  my 
vows  without  the  preface  of  Mademoiselle  de  la 
Valliere  and  without  my  Renee!  why,  it  was  an 
illness,  a  mortal  illness!  This  monotonous  life  in 
which  each  hour  brings  a  duty,  a  prayer,  a  task  so 
exactly  like  all  the  others  that  in  any  locality  one 
can  always  tell  what  a  Carmelite  is  doing  at  such 
or  such  an  hour  of  the  day  or  the  night;  this  horri- 
ble existence,  in  which  it  is  entirely  immaterial 
whether  the  things  which  surround  us  are  or  are 
not,  had  become  for  us  the  most  varied, — the  flight 
of  our  spirit  knew  no  bounds,  fancy  had  given  to  us 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  7 

the  key  of  her  kingdom,  we  were  alternately  one  for 
the  other  a  charming  hippogriff,  the  most  alert 
awakened  the  sleepiest,  and  our  souls  wantoned  at 
will  in  taking  possession  of  that  world  which  was 
forbidden  us.  There  was  nothing  even  to  the  "Lives 
of  the  Saints"  which  did  not  aid  us  in  comprehend- 
ing the  most  hidden  things!  The  day  in  which  thy 
sweet  company  was  taken  away  from  me,  I  became 
that  which  a  Carmelite  is  in  our  eyes,  a  modern 
Danaide  who,  instead  of  endeavoring  to  fill  a  bot- 
tomless cask,  draws  every  day,  from  I  know  not 
what  well,  an  empty  vessel,  hoping  to  bring  it  up 
full.  My  aunt  was  ignorant  of  our  inward  life. 
She  did  not  understand  my  aversion  to  existence, 
she  who  has  made  for  herself  a  celestial  world  in 
the  two  acres  of  her  convent  To  embrace  the  re- 
ligious life  at  our  ages,  an  excessive  simplicity  is 
required,  which  we  have  not,  my  sweet  one,  or  else 
that  ardor  of  devotion  which  renders  my  aunt  a  sub- 
lime  creature.  My  aunt  sacrificed  herself  to  an 
adored  brother ;  but  who  can  sacrifice  one's  self  to 
unknown  persons  or  to  ideas  ? 

It  is  now  nearly  two  weeks  that  I  have  had  so 
many  wild  words  smothered  within  me,  so  many 
meditations  buried  in  my  heart,  so  many  observa- 
tions to  communicate  and  recitals  to  make  which 
could  only  be  made  to  you,  that  without  the  alter- 
native of  written  confidences  substituted  for  our 
dear  conversations,  I  should  have  suffocated.  How 
necessary  to  us  is  the  life  of  the  heart!  I  commence 
my  diary  this  morning  imagining  that  yours  is 


8  MEMOIRS  OF 

begun,  that  in  a  few  days  I  shall  be  living  in  the 
depths  of  your  beautiful  valley  of  Gemenos,  of 
which  I  know  only  that  which  you  have  told  me,  as 
you  are  going  to  live  in  Paris,  of  which  you  know 
only  what  we  have  dreamed  about  it. 

Well  then,  my  dear  child,  on  the  morning  which 
will  remain  marked  with  a  red  seal  in  the  book  of 
my  life,  there  arrived  from  Paris  a  young  woman 
companion  and  Philippe,  my  grandmother's  last 
valet  de  chambre,  sent  to  take  me  away.  When, 
after  having  had  me  brought  into  her  chamber,  my 
aunt  communicated  this  news  to  me,  joy  tied  my 
tongue,  I  looked  at  her  with  a  stupid  air. 

"My  child,"  she  said  to  me  in  her  guttural  voice, 
"you  leave  me  without  regret,  I  see  it;  but  this 
adieu  is  not  the  last,  we  shall  see  each  other  again: 
God  has  marked  you  on  the  forehead  with  the  sign 
of  the  elect,  you  have  that  pride  which  leads  equally 
to  heaven  as  to  hell,  but  you  have  too  much  nobility 
to  descend !  I  know  you  better  than  you  know 
yourself:  passion  will  not  be  with  you  what  it  is  in 
ordinary  women." 

She  drew  me  gently  toward  her  and  kissed  me  on 
the  forehead,  communicating  to  me  that  fire  which 
devours  her,  which  has  clouded  the  azure  of  her 
eyes,  softened  her  eyelids,  wrinkled  her  golden 
temples  and  yellowed  her  fine  countenance.  She 
gave  me  a  sensation  of  goose  flesh.  Before  reply- 
ing, I  kissed  her  hands. 

"Dear  aunt,"  I  said  to  her,  "if  your  adorable 
bounties  have  not  enabled  me  to  find  your  Paraclete 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  9 

healthy  to  the  body  and  sweet  to  the  heart,  I  should 
weep  as  many  tears  to  return  to  it  as  you  could 
know  how  to  desire  my  return.  I  would  wish  to 
return  here  only  if  betrayed  by  my  Louis  XIV.,  and 
if  I  should  capture  one,  it  would  be  only  death  that 
would  wrest  him  from  me!  I  should  not  fear  the 
Montespans. " 

"Go,  foolish  girl,"  said  she  smiling,  "do  not 
leave  those  vain  ideas  here,  take  them  away  with 
you ;  and  know  that  you  are  more  Montespan  than 
La  Valliere." 

I  embraced  her.  The  poor  woman  could  not  re- 
frain from  conducting  me  to  the  carriage,  where  her 
eyes  were  alternately  fixed  upon  the  paternal  arms 
and  upon  me. 

Night  surprised  me  at  Beaugency,  plunged  in  a 
moral  torpor  produced  by  this  singular  adieu. 
What  was  I  then  going  to  find  in  this  world  so  much 
desired?  In  the  first  place,  I  did  not  find  anyone  to 
receive  me,  all  the  preparations  of  my  heart  went 
for  naught, — my  mother  was  at  the  Bois  de  Bou- 
logne, my  father  was  at  the  Council ;  my  brother, 
the  Due  de  Rhetore,  never  returned,  I  was  told,  but 
to  dress  himself  before  dinner.  Mademoiselle 
Griffiths — she  has  griffes,  claws — and  Philippe  con- 
ducted me  to  my  apartment 

This  apartment  is  that  of  that  grandmother  so 
much  beloved,  the  Princesse  de  Vauremont  from 
whom  I  derived  something  of  a  fortune,  of  which  no 
one  has  ever  spoken  to  me.  In  this,  you  will  par- 
take of  the  sadness  which  seized  me  on  entering  this 


10  MEMOIRS  OF 

spot  consecrated  by  my  memories.  The  apartment 
was  as  she  had  left  it!  I  was  to  sleep  in  the  bed  in 
which  she  had  died.  Seated  on  the  edge  of  her  sofa, 
I  wept  without  seeing  that  I  was  not  alone,  I  thought 
how  I  had  often  placed  myself  at  her  knees  in  order 
better  to  hear  her.  There,  1  had  seen  her  counte- 
nance framed  in  its  yellow  laces  and  emaciated  by 
age  as  well  as  by  the  sorrows  of  grief.  This  cham- 
ber seemed  to  me  still  warm  with  the  heat  which 
she  had  maintained  there.  How  was  it  that  Made- 
moiselle Armande-Louise-Marie  de  Chaulieu  was 
obliged,  like  a  peasant  woman,  to  sleep  in  her 
mother's  bed,  almost  on  the  day  of  her  death?  for 
it  seemed  to  me  that  the  princess,  dead  in  1817, 
had  expired  the  night  before.  This  chamber  offered 
to  my  view  articles  which  should  not  have  been 
there,  and  which  proved  to  what  an  extent  those 
occupied  with  the  affairs  of  the  kingdom  are  care- 
less of  their  own,  and  how  little,  when  she  was 
dead,  this  noble  woman  had  been  borne  in  mind,  she 
who  will  be  one  of  the  grand  feminine  figures  of  the 
eighteenth  century.  Philippe  as  good  as  under- 
stood the  source  of  my  tears.  He  said  to  me  that  in 
her  will  the  princess  had  bequeathed  me  her  furni- 
ture. My  father,  moreover,  permitted  the  grand 
apartments  to  remain  in  the  state  in  which  they  had 
been  left  by  the  Revolution.  I  rose,  Philippe 
opened  for  me  the  door  of  the  little  salon  which 
communicated  with  the  reception  apartment,  and  I 
found  it  in  the  disordered  state  which  I  knew, — the 
panels  over  the  doors  which  had  contained  valuable 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  II 

paintings  present  their  empty  frames,  the  marbles 
are  broken,  the  mirrors  have  been  carried  away. 
Formerly  I  was  afraid  to  mount  the  grand  staircase 
and  to  traverse  the  vast  solitude  of  these  lofty  apart- 
ments, I  reached  that  of  the  princess  by  a  little 
stairway  which  descends  under  the  arch  of  the  great 
one  and  which  leads  to  the  private  door  of  her 
dressing-room. 

The  apartment,  composed  of  a  salon,  of  a  bed- 
chamber and  of  this  pretty  cabinet  in  vermilion  and 
gold  of  which  I  have  spoken  to  you,  occupies  the 
pavilion  on  the  side  of  the  Invalides.  The  hotel  is 
only  separated  from  the  boulevard  by  a  wall 
covered  with  climbing  plants  and  by  a  magnificent 
alley  of  trees  which  mingle  their  summits  with 
those  of  the  young  elms  of  the  side  alley  of  the 
boulevard.  Were  it  not  for  the  blue  and  golden 
dome,  for  the  gray  masses  of  the  Invalides,  you 
would  think  yourself  in  a  forest  The  style  of 
these  three  rooms  and  their  situation  proclaims  them 
the  ancient  state  apartment  of  the  Duchesses  de 
Chaulieu,  those  of  the  dukes  are  in  the  opposite 
pavilion;  these  two  are  decently  separated  by  the 
two  detached  parts  of  the  building  and  by  the  pa- 
vilion of  the  facade,  in  which  are  those  grand  sail es, 
murky  and  echoing,  which  Philippe  showed  to  me 
still  stripped  of  their  splendor,  and  just  as  I  had 
seen  them  in  my  childhood.  Philippe  assumed  a 
confidential  air  on  seeing  the  astonishment  depicted 
on  my  countenance.  My  dear,  in  this  diplomatic 
mansion,  all  the  people  are  discreet  and  mysterious. 


12  MEMOIRS  OF 

He  told  me  then  that  everyone  was  waiting  for  a 
law  by  which  the  value  of  their  property  was  to  be 
restored  to  the  'emigr'es.  My  father  postponed  the 
restoration  of  his  hotel  until  the  day  of  this  restitu- 
tion. The  architect  of  the  king  had  estimated  the 
expense  at  300,000  francs.  This  confidence  had 
the  effect  of  causing  me  to  drop  on  the  sofa  of  my 
salon.  And,  instead  of  taking  this  money  for  my 
marriage,  why  had  my  father  left  me  to  die  in  the 
convent?  This  was  the  reflection  which  came  to 
me  on  the  threshold  of  this  door.  Ah,  Renee,  how 
I  would  have  nestled  my  head  on  your  shoulder,  and 
how  I  would  have  gone  back  to  the  days  when  my 
grandmother  loved  these  two  chambers!  She  who 
only  exists  in  my  heart,  you  who  are  at  Maucombe, 
at  two  hundred  leagues  from  me,  these  are  the 
only  two  beings  who  love  me  and  who  have  loved 
me.  This  dear  old  woman  whose  looks  were  so 
young  would  have  wished  to  revive  at  my  voice. 
How  we  would  have  understood  one  another !  Mem- 
ory has  changed  all  at  once  the  disposition  in  which 
I  dwelt  at  first.  I  have  found  I  know  not  what  of 
saintly  in  that  which  appeared  to  me  a  profanation. 
It  seemed  to  me  pleasant  to  breathe  the  vague  odor 
of  powder  &  la  Marechale  which  lingered  there, 
pleasant  to  sleep  under  the  protection  of  these  cur- 
tains in  yellow  damask  with  white  figures  in  which 
her  looks  and  her  breath  should  have  left  something 
of  her  soul.  I  directed  Philippe  to  restore  these 
same  objects  to  their  original  state,  to  give  to  my 
apartment  the  aspect  and  the  life  suitable  to  a 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  13 

living-room.  I  have  myself  indicated  how  I  desire  to 
have  it  arranged,  assigning  to  each  piece  of  furniture 
its  proper  place.  I  have  passed  them  all  in  review 
in  taking  possession  of  everything,  in  directing  how 
these  antiquities  which  I  love  may  be  renewed. 
The  chamber  is  in  white,  somewhat  tarnished  by 
time,  as  also  the  gold  of  the  whimsical  arabesques 
shows  in  some  places  reddish  tints;  but  these 
effects  are  in  harmony  with  the  faded  colors  of  the 
carpet  of  the  Savonnerie  which  was  given  by  Louis 
XV.  to  my  grandmother,  as  well  as  his  portrait 
The  clock  was  a  present  from  the  Marechal  de  Saxe. 
The  porcelains  of  the  chimney-piece  came  from  the 
Marechal  de  Richelieu.  The  portrait  of  my  grand- 
mother, taken  at  the  age  of  twenty-five,  is  in  an 
oval  frame,  opposite  to  that  of  the  king.  The  prince 
does  not  appear  at  all.  I  love  this  frank  omission, 
without  hypocrisy,  which  depicts  with  one  stroke 
this  delicious  character.  In  a  serious  illness  which 
befell  my  aunt,  her  confessor  insisted  that  the 
prince,  who  was  waiting  in  the  salon,  should  enter. 

"With  the  doctor  and  his  prescriptions,"  she  said. 

The  bed  has  a  canopy,  with  stuffed  hangings ;  the 
curtains  are  gathered  back  in  handsome  and  ample 
folds;  the  furniture  is  in  gilded  wood,  covered  with 
that  yellow  damask  with  white  flowers  with  which 
the  windows  are  also  draped,  and  which  is  lined 
with  a  stuff  of  white  silk  which  resembles  moire. 
The  panels  over  the  doors,  painted  by  an  unknown 
artist,  represent  a  rising  sun  and  a  moonlight.  The 
chimney-piece  is  arranged  very  curiously.  It  can 


14  MEMOIRS  OF 

readily  be  seen  that  in  the  last  century  much  of  the 
time  was  passed  at  the  corner  of  the  fire.  It  was 
there  that  the  great  events  occurred, — the  hearth  of 
gilded  copper  is  a  marvel  of  sculpture,  the  casing 
is  of  a  precious  finish,  the  shovel  and  the  tongs  are 
delightful  pieces  of  workmanship,  the  bellows  is  a 
jewel.  The  tapestry  of  the  screen  is  Gobelin,  and 
its  mounting  is  exquisite;  the  fantastic  figures 
which  traverse  it,  on  the  feet,  on  the  supporting  bar, 
on  the  wings,  are  ravishing;  everything  in  it  is 
finished  like  a  fan.  Who  had  given  to  her  this 
beautiful  piece  of  furniture  which  she  held  in  great 
affection?  I  should  like  to  know.  How  many 
times  have  I  seen  her,  her  foot  on  the  rest,  buried 
in  her  luxurious  seat,  her  dress  partially  brought  up 
on  her  knee  by  her  attitude,  taking,  putting  back 
and  taking  again  her  snuff-box  from  the  little  table 
between  her  box  of  pastilles  and  her  silk  mittens! 
Was  she  coquettish  ?  Up  to  the  day  of  her  death, 
she  took  care  of  herself  as  if  she  were  only  on  the 
morrow  of  that  beautiful  portrait,  as  if  she  were 
waiting  for  the  flower  of  the  Court  to  come  throng- 
ing around  her.  This  seat  recalls  to  me  the  inim- 
itable movement  which  she  gave  to  her  petticoats 
in  settling  herself  in  it.  These  women  of  a  past 
era  have  carried  away  with  them  certain  secrets 
which  depict  their  epoch.  The  princess  had  certain 
movements  of  the  head,  a  certain  manner  of  distrib- 
uting her  words  and  her  looks,  a  particular  lan- 
guage which  I  do  not  find  in  my  mother, — there 
were  to  be  found  in  her  a  delicacy  of  wit  and  good 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  15 

nature,  of  resolution  without  preparation;  her  con- 
versation was  at  once  prolix  and  laconic,  she  related 
well  and  depicted  in  three  words.  She  had  above 
all  that  excessive  freedom  of  judgment  which  cer- 
tainly has  influenced  the  working  of  my  mind. 
From  seven  to  ten  years  of  age  I  lived  in  her  pock- 
ets ;  she  was  as  fond  of  drawing  me  to  her  as  I  was 
of  going.  This  preference  was  the  cause  of  more 
than  one  quarrel  between  her  and  my  mother. 
Now,  nothing  stirs  up  a  sentiment  so  much  as  the 
icy  wind  of  persecution.  With  what  grace  would 
she  say  to  me:  "Ah,  there  you  are,  little  witch!" 
when  the  serpent  of  curiosity  had  lent  me  its  move- 
ments enabling  me  to  slip  through  the  doors  to  her. 
She  felt  herself  loved,  she  loved  my  ingenuous  love 
which  brought  a  ray  of  sunshine  into  her  winter.  I 
do  not  know  what  passed  in  her  apartments  in  the 
evenings,  but  she  received  a  great  many  people; 
when  I  entered  in  the  morning,  on  tiptoe,  to  see  if 
she  had  yet  arisen,  I  saw  the  furniture  of  her  salon 
disarranged,  the  tables  for  play  set  out,  plenty  of 
snuff  spilled  in  places.  This  salon  is  in  the  same 
style  as  the  chamber,  the  furniture  is  singularly 
formed,  the  wood  has  fluted  mouldings,  and  termi- 
nates in  deer's  feet  Garlands  of  flowers  richly 
sculptured  and  beautiful  in  character  wind  across 
the  mirrors  and  descend  in  long  festoons.  On  the 
consoles  are  beautiful  Chinese  vases  in  the  shape  of 
cornucopias.  The  ground  of  the  furniture  is  deep 
scarlet  and  white.  My  grandmother  was  a  proud 
and  piquant  brunette,  her  complexion  might  be 


16  MEMOIRS  OF 

divined  from  her  choice  of  color.  I  have  found 
again  in  this  salon  a  writing-table  the  figures  of 
which  had  much  occupied  my  eyes  formerly;  it  is 
encrusted  in  chased  silver;  it  was  given  to  her  by 
a  Lomellini  of  Genoa.  Each  side  of  this  table 
represents  the  operations  of  the  various  seasons; 
the  figures  are  in  relief,  there  are  hundreds  of  them 
in  each  scene.  I  have  remained  for  two  hours  quite 
alone,  resuming  my  souvenirs  one  by  one,  in  the 
sanctuary  in  which  expired  one  of  the  women  of  the 
Court  of  Louis  XV.  the  most  celebrated  by  her  wit 
and  by  her  beauty.  You  know  how  I  was  brusquely 
separated  from  her  without  warning,  in  1816. 

"Go  and  say  good-bye  to  your  grandmother,"  my 
mother  said  to  me. 

I  found  the  princess,  not  surprised  at  my  depart- 
ure, but  apparently  unaffected  by  it.  She  received 
me  as  usual. 

"You  are  going  to  the  convent,  my  jewel,"  she 
said  to  me;  "you  will  there  see  your  aunt,  an  ex- 
cellent woman.  I  will  take  care  that  you  are  not 
sacrificed,  you  will  be  independent,  and  even 
enough  so  to  marry  whom  you  wish." 

She  died  six  months  later ;  she  had  placed  her  will 
in  the  hands  of  the  most  assiduous  of  her  old  friends, 
the  Prince  de  Talleyrand,  who,  in  visiting  Made- 
moiselle Chargebceuf,  found  means  to  inform  me 
through  her  that  my  grandmother  forbade  me  to 
take  the  vows.  I  strongly  hope  that,  sooner  or 
later,  I  shall  meet  the  prince;  and,  without  doubt 
he  will  tell  me  more.  Thus,  my  dear  lamb,  if  1 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  17 

have  not  found  anyone  to  receive  me,  I  have  con- 
soled myself  with  the  shade  of  the  dear  princess, 
and  I  put  myself  in  the  condition  to  fulfill  one  of  our 
agreements,  which  is,  do  you  remember,  to  initiate 
each  other  into  the  smallest  details  of  our  situation 
and  of  our  life.  It  is  so  sweet  to  know  how  and 
where  lives  the  being  that  is  dear  to  us!  Describe 
to  me  carefully  the  least  of  the  things  which  sur- 
round you,  everything  in  short,  even  to  the  effects 
of  the  setting  sun  among  the  big  trees. 

October  10. 

I  had  arrived  at  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon. 
About  half-past  five,  Rose  came  to  tell  me  that  my 
mother  had  come  in,  and  I  descended  to  pay  my 
respects  to  her.  My  mother  occupies  on  the  ground 
floor  an  apartment  arranged  like  mine,  in  the  same 
pavilion.  I  am  above  her,  and  we  have  the  same 
private  stairway.  My  father  is'  in  the  opposite 
pavilion;  but,  as  on  the  side  of  the  court  he  has  in 
addition  the  space  which  is  taken  in  ours  by  the 
grand  stairway,  his  apartment  is  much  larger  than 
ours.  Notwithstanding  the  duties  of  the  position 
which  the  return  of  the  Bourbons  has  imposed  upon 
them,  my  father  and  my  mother  continue  to  inhabit 
the  ground  floor  and  can  there  hold  their  receptions, 
so  vast  are  the  mansions  of  our  ancestors.  I  found 
my  mother  in  her  salon,  in  which  nothing  had  been 
changed.  She  was  dressed.  From  step  to  step  as 
I  descended,  I  asked  myself  how  she  would  be  to 
me,  this  woman,  who  has  been  so  little  a  mother 

2 


18  MEMOIRS  OF 

that  I  have  only  received  from  her  in  eight  years 
the  two  letters  which  you  know.  Thinking  that  it 
would  be  unworthy  of  me  to  display  an  impossible 
tenderness,  I  composed  myself  in  the  r61e  of  a  reli- 
gious idiot,  and  I  entered  sufficiently  embarrassed 
inwardly.  This  embarrassment  was  soon  dissi- 
pated. My  mother  displayed  perfect  grace;  she 
did  not  display  toward  me  any  false  tenderness,  she 
was  not  cold,  she  did  not  treat  me  as  a  stranger,  she 
did  not  take  me  to  her  bosom  as  a  beloved  daughter ; 
she  received  me  as  if  she  had  seen  me  the  night  be- 
fore, she  was  the  most  gentle,  the  most  sincere 
friend ;  she  spoke  to  me  as  if  I  were  a  grown  woman, 
and  began  by  kissing  me  on  the  forehead. 

"My  dear  little  one,  if  you  are  going  to  die  at  the 
convent,"  she  said  to  me,  "it  is  better  to  live  with 
us.  You  thwart  your  father's  designs  and  mine, 
but  we  are  no  longer  in  the  times  in  which  parents 
were  blindly  obeyed.  The  intention  of  Monsieur 
de  Chaulieu,  which  is  in  accord  with  mine,  is  to 
neglect  nothing  which  may  render  life  agreeable  to 
you  and  to  permit  you  to  see  the  world.  At  your 
age,  I  would  have  thought  as  you  do;  thus  I  will 
not  quarrel  with  you, — you  cannot  comprehend  that 
which  we  ask  of  you.  You  will  not  find  in  me  a 
ridiculous  severity.  If  you  have  doubted  my  affec- 
tion, you  will  soon  recognize  that  you  have  de- 
ceived yourself.  Although  I  wish  to  leave  you  per- 
fectly free,  I  think  that  at  first  you  will  do  wisely 
to  listen  to  the  advice  of  a  mother  who  will  be  to 
you  as  a  sister." 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  19 

The  duchess  spoke  with  a  gentle  voice,  and  ad- 
justed my  schoolgirl's  mantle.  She  charmed  me.  At 
thirty-eight,  she  is  as  beautiful  as  an  angel ;  her 
eyes  are  of  a  blue-blackness  with  lashes  like  silk, 
her  forehead  without  wrinkles,  her  skin  white  and 
pink  as  though  she  painted,  her  shoulders  and  her 
bust  surprising,  her  figure  rounded  and  slender  like 
yours,  her  hand  of  a  rare  beauty,  it  is  of  the  white- 
ness of  milk;  nails  on  which  the  light  lingers,  they 
are  so  polished;  the  little  fingers  slightly  separated 
from  the  others,  the  thumb  of  an  ivory  finish; 
finally,  she  has  the  foot  in  keeping  with  her  hand, 
the  Spanish  foot  of  Mademoiselle  de  Vandenesse. 
If  she  is  thus  at  forty,  she  will  be  beautiful  still  at 
sixty.  I  replied,  my  lamb,  as  a  submissive  daugh- 
ter. I  was  to  her  that  which  she  was  to  me,  I  was 
even  better, — her  beauty  vanquished  me,  I  for- 
gave her  her  abandonment,  I  comprehended  that  a 
woman  such  as  she  would  have  been  carried  away 
by  her  role  of  queen.  I  said  it  to  her  as  naively 
as  if  I  were  talking  with  you.  Perhaps  she  did  not 
expect  to  find  a  language  of  love  in  the  mouth  of  her 
daughter.  The  sincere  homage  of  my  admiration 
touched  her  greatly, — her  manners  changed,  became 
still  more  gracious;  she  abandoned  theyou. 

"Thou  art  a  good  daughter,  and  I  hope  that  we 
shall  remain  friends. " 

This  phrase  appeared  to  me  of  an  adorable  ingen- 
uousness. I  did  not  wish  to  let  her  see  how  I  took 
it,  for  I  understood  soon  enough  that  I  should  permit 
her  to  believe  that  she  is  much  more  fine  and  more 


20  MEMOIRS  OF 

spirituelle  than  her  daughter.  I  accordingly  played 
the  silly,  she  was  enchanted  with  me.  I  kissed  her 
hand  repeatedly,  say  ing  to  her  that  I  was  very  happy 
that  she  treated  me  thus, — that  I  feit  myself  happy 
and  content,  and  I  even  confided  to  her  my  terror. 
She  smiled,  took  me  by  the  neck  to  draw  me  toward 
her  and  kissed  me  on  the  forehead  with  a  gesture 
full  of  tenderness. 

"Dear  child,"  she  said,  "we  have  a  number  of 
people  to  dinner  to-night;  you  will  think  perhaps, 
with  me,  that  it  will  be  better  to  wait  till  the 
dressmaker  has  furnished  you  before  making  your 
entry  into  the  world;  therefore,  after  having  seen 
your  father  and  your  brother,  you  will  go  up  again 
to  your  own  apartment" 

In  which  I  acquiesced  with  all  my  heart.  The 
ravishing  toilet  of  my  mother  was  the  first  revela- 
tion of  that  world  of  which  we  had  caught  glimpses 
in  our  dreams;  but  I  did  not  experience  the  slightest 
emotion  of  jealousy.  My  father  entered. 

"Monsieur,  here  is  your  daughter,"  said  the 
duchess  to  him. 

My  father  suddenly  assumed  for  me  the  most 
tender  manners;  he  so  perfectly  played  his  r61e  of 
father  that  I  believed  he  had  his  heart  in  it. 

"Here  you  are  then,  rebellious  daughter !"  he  said 
to  me,  taking  my  two  hands  in  his  and  kissing  me 
with  more  of  gallantry  than  of  paternity. 

And  he  drew  me  toward  him,  took  me  around  the 
waist,  clasped  me  to  embrace  me  on  the  cheeks  and 
on  the  forehead. 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  21 

"You  will  make  up  for  the  vexation  which  your 
change  of  vocation  causes  us  by  the  pleasures  which 
your  success  in  the  world  will  give  us. — Do  you 
know,  Madame,  that  she  will  be  very  pretty  and  that 
you  can  some  day  be  proud  of  her  ? — Here  is  your 
brother,  Rhetore. — Alphonse,"  said  he,  to  a  hand- 
some young  man  who  entered,  "here  is  your  sister, 
the  nun,  who  has  renounced  her  veil." 

My  brother  came  up  without  hurrying  himself, 
took  my  hand  and  clasped  it. 

"Kiss  her,"  said  the  duke  to  him. 

And  he  kissed  me  on  each  cheek. 

"I  am  delighted  to  see  you,  sister,"  he  said  to 
me,  "and  I  am  on  your  side  against  my  father." 

I  thanked  him ;  but  it  seems  to  me  that  he  could 
very  well  have  come  to  Blois,  when  he  went  to 
Orleans  to  see  our  brother,  the  marquis,  in  garrison 
there.  I  withdrew,  fearing  that  some  strangers 
might  arrive.  I  have  made  some  arrangements  in 
my  apartment,  I  have  put  on  the  scarlet  velvet 
of  the  handsome  table  everything  necessary  for 
writing  to  you  while  reflecting  on  my  new  po- 
sition. 

Here  you  have,  my  beautiful  white  lamb,  neither 
more  nor  less,  just  what  has  taken  place  on  the  re- 
turn of  a  young  girl  of  eighteen,  after  an  absence  of 
nine  years,  in  one  of  the  most  illustrious  families  of 
the  kingdom.  The  journey  had  fatigued  me  and  also 
the  emotions  of  this  return  to  the  bosom  of  a  family: 
I  accordingly  retired  as  at  the  convent,  at  eight 
o'clock,  after  having  supped.  They  have  preserved 


22  MEMOIRS  OF 

even  a  little  service  in  Saxony  porcelain  which 
this  dear  princess  kept  for  her  own  use  when  alone 
and  when  the  fancy  seized  her. 


II 

THE  SAME  TO  THE  SAME 

November  25. 

The  next  morning,  I  found  my  apartment  put  in 
order  and  arranged  by  the  old  Philippe,  who  had 
put  flowers  in  the  Chinese  vases.  Finally  I  was 
installed.  Only,  no  one  had  thought  that  a  board- 
ing-school girl  of  the  Carmelites  was  hungry  early 
in  the  morning,  and  Rose  had  a  thousand  troubles 
to  get  me  a  breakfast 

"Mademoiselle  went  to  bed  at  the  hour  when 
dinner  was  served  and  rose  just  as  monseigneur 
was  retiring,"  she  said  to  me. 

I  sat  down  to  write.  About  one  o'clock  my 
father  knocked  at  the  door  of  my  little  salon  and 
asked  me  if  I  could  receive  him :  I  opened  the  door 
to  him,  he  entered  and  found  me  writing  to  you. 

"My  dear,  you  have  to  dress  yourself,  to  accom- 
modate yourself  here;  you  will  find  twelve  thou- 
sand francs  in  this  purse.  It  is  a  year's  revenue 
which  I  grant  to  you  for  your  living  expenses. 
You  will  arrange  with  your  mother  to  take  a  govern- 
ess who  will  be  agreeable  to  you,  if  Miss  Griffith 
does  not  please  you;  for  Madame  de  Chaulieu  will 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  23 

not  have  the  time  to  accompany  you  in  the  morn- 
ing. You  will  have  a  carriage  at  your  order  and  a 
domestic." 

"Let  me  keep  Philippe,"  I  said  to  him. 

"So  be  it,"  he  replied.  "But  do  not  have  any 
care, — your  fortune  is  sufficiently  considerable  to 
prevent  your  being  any  charge  either  to  your 
mother  or  to  me." 

"Would  I  be  indiscreet  in  asking  you  what  is  my 
fortune?" 

"Not  in  the  least,  my  child;  your  grandmother 
left  to  you  five  hundred  thousand  francs  which  were 
her  savings,  for  she  did  not  wish  to  deprive  her 
family  of  a  single  piece  of  land.  This  sum  has 
been  placed  in  the  Funds.  The  accumulation  of 
interest  has  produced  to-day  about  forty  thousand 
francs  of  income.  I  wished  to  employ  this  sum  to 
constitute  the  fortune  of  your  second  brother, — thus 
you  derange  very  seriously  my  projects;  but  in  a 
little  while  perhaps  you  will  concur  in  them, — I 
shall  expect  everything  of  you  yourself.  You  seem 
to  me  more  reasonable  than  I  had  hoped.  It  is  not 
necessary  for  me  to  say  to  you  how  a  Demoiselle 
de  Chaulieu  conducts  herself;  the  pride  depicted  in 
your  features  is  my  safe  guarantee.  In  our  house- 
hold, the  precautions  which  smaller  people  take  for 
their  daughters  are  harmful.  An  injurious  speech 
concerning  you  might  cost  the  life  of  him  who  per- 
mitted himself  to  utter  it,  or  of  one  of  your  brothers, 
if  Heaven  should  be  unjust.  I  will  not  say  more  to 
you  on  this  subject  Adieu,  dear  little  one." 


24  MEMOIRS  OF 

He  kissed  me  on  the  forehead  and  went  away. 
After  persevering  in  it  for  nine  years,  I  cannot  ex- 
plain to  myself  the  abandonment  of  this  plan.  My 
father  had  expressed  himself  with  a  clearness  which 
I  liked.  There  is  not  in  his  speech  the  slightest 
ambiguity.  My  fortune  should  go  to  his  son  the 
marquis.  Who  then  has  had  bowels  of  compassion  ? 
is  it  my  mother,  is  it  my  father,  should  it  be  my 
brother  ? 

I  remained  seated  on  my  grandmother's  sofa,  my 
eyes  on  the  purse  which  my  father  had  left  on  the 
chimney-piece,  at  once  satisfied  and  discontented 
with  this  attention  which  kept  my  thoughts  on  the 
money.  It  is  true  that  I  no  longer  have  to  think  of 
it:  my  doubts  are  all  cleared  up,  and  there  is  some- 
thing worthy  in  sparing  me  all  wounded  pride  on 
this  subject  Philippe  had  run  about  all  the  morn- 
ing among  all  the  different  merchants  and  trades- 
people who  were  to  be  charged  with  bringing  about 
my  metamorphosis.  A  celebrated  dressmaker,  a 
certain  Victor ine,  came,  as  well  as  a  maker  of 
lingerie  and  a  shoemaker.  I  was  impatient,  like  a 
child,  to  know  how  I  should  be  when  I  had  quitted 
the  sack  in  which  the  conventual  costume  envelops 
us;  but  all  these  work-people  want  a  great  deal  of 
time, — the  corset-maker  asks  a  week  if  I  do  not 
wish  to  spoil  my  figure.  This  is  becoming  serious, 
I  have  then  a  figure  ?  Janssen,  the  shoemaker  of 
the  Opera,  has  positively  assured  me  that  I  have 
my  mother's  foot  I  have  passed  all  the  morning  in 
these  serious  occupations.  There  has  even  come  a 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  25 

glove-maker  who  has  taken  the  measure  of  my 
hand.  The  maker  of  lingerie  has  had  my  orders. 
At  the  hour  of  my  dinner,  which  is  that  of  the  de- 
jeuner, my  mother  said  to  me  that  we  would  go  to- 
gether to  the  modiste  for  hats,  in  order  to  form  my 
tastes  and  enable  me  to  order  my  own.  I  am  be- 
wildered at  this  commencement  of  independence, 
like  a  blind  man  who  should  recover  his  sight.  I 
can  judge  of  what  a  Carmelite  is  to  a  young  lady 
of  the  world, — the  difference  is  so  great  that  we 
should  never  have  been  able  to  conceive  it  Dur- 
ing this  dejeuner  my  father  was  thoughtful,  and  we 
left  him  to  his  own  reflections ;  he  is  deep  in  the 
secrets  of  the  king.  I  was  completely  forgotten,  he 
will  think  of  me  when  I  shall  be  necessary  to  him, 
I  have  seen  that  My  father  is  a  charming  man, 
notwithstanding  his  fifty  years:  he  has  a  youthful 
figure,  he  is  well  built,  he  is  blond,  he  has  a  style 
and  a  gracefulness  which  are  exquisite ;  he  has  the 
countenance,  at  once  speaking  and  reserved,  of  the 
diplomats;  his  nose  is  thin  and  long,  his  eyes  are 
brown.  What  a  handsome  couple!  How  many 
singular  thoughts  have  assailed  me  in  seeing  clearly 
that  these  two  beings,  equally  noble,  rich,  superior, 
do  not  live  together,  have  nothing  in  common  but 
the  name,  and  maintain  the  appearance  of  being 
united  in  the  eyes  of  the  world.  The  elite  of  the 
court  and  of  diplomacy  were  there  yesterday.  In 
a  few  days,  I  am  going  to  a  ball  in  the  house  of  the 
Duchesse  de  Maufrigneuse,  and  I  shall  be  presented 
to  this  world  which  I  wish  so  much  to  know.  A 


26  MEMOIRS  OF 

dancing-master  is  to  come  every  morning:  I  am  to 
know  how  to  dance  in  a  month,  under  penalty  of 
not  going  to  the  ball.  Before  the  dinner,  my 
mother  came  to  see  me  about  my  governess.  I  have 
kept  Miss  Griffith,  who  was  given  to  her  by  the 
English  ambassador.  This  Miss  is  the  daughter  of 
a  minister :  her  education  is  perfect,  her  mother  was 
noble;  she  is  thirty-six  years  old,  she  will  teach  me 
English.  My  Griffith  is  handsome  enough  to  have 
pretensions ;  she  is  poor  and  proud,  she  is  Scotch, 
she  will  be  my  chaperon;  she  will  sleep  in  the 
chamber  with  Rose.  Rose  will  be  under  Miss 
Griffith's  orders.  I  saw  immediately  that  I  shall 
govern  my  governess.  In  the  six  days  that  we 
have  been  together  she  has  perfectly  comprehended 
that  it  is  I  alone  who  can  take  any  interest  in  her; 
for  myself,  notwithstanding  her  statuesque  counte- 
nance, I  have  perfectly  comprehended  that  she  will 
be  very  complacent  for  me.  She  seems  to  me  a 
good  creature,  but  discreet.  I  have  never  been  able 
to  know  what  was  said  between  her  and  my  mother. 
Another  piece  of  news  which  seems  to  me  of  slight 
importance!  This  morning,  my  father  refused  the 
post  of  minister  which  was  offered  him.  Hence  his 
preoccupation  of  the  day  before.  He  prefers  an  em- 
bassy,he  said,  to  the  wearinesses  of  public  discussion. 
Spain  smiles  upon  him.  I  learned  this  news  at  dejeu- 
ner, the  only  time  of  the  day  when  my  father,  my 
mother  and  my  brother  meet  in  a  sort  of  intimacy. 
The  servants  only  come  then  when  some  one  rings 
for  them.  All  the  rest  of  the  time  my  brother  is 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  27 

absent  as  well  as  my  father.  My  mother  is  dress- 
ing, she  is  only  visible  from  two  o'clock  to  four: 
at  four  o'clock  she  goes  out  for  a  promenade  of  an 
hour ;  she  receives  from  six  to  seven  when  she  does 
not  dine  out;  then  the  evening  is  employed  in  pleas- 
ure, the  theatre,  balls,  concerts,  visits.  In  fact  her 
life  is  so  full,  that  I  doubt  if  she  has  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  to  herself.  She  must  pass  a  very  considerable 
length  of  time  at  her  morning  toilet,  for  she  is  divine 
at  dejeuner,  which  is  between  eleven  o'clock  and 
noon.  I  am  commencing  to  understand  the  sounds 
which  are  heard  in  her  apartment, — she  takes  first 
a  bath  almost  cold,  and  a  cup  of  cold  coffee  with 
cream;  then  she  dresses;  she  is  never  awakened 
before  nine  o'clock,  excepting  in  extraordinary 
cases;  in  the  summer  there  are  horseback  rides  in 
the  morning.  At  two  o'clock,  she  receives  a  young 
man  whom  I  have  not  yet  seen.  This  is  our  family 
life.  We  meet  each  other  at  dejeuner  and  at  din- 
ner; but  I  am  often  alone  with  my  mother  at  this 
latter  repast  I  foresee  that  more  frequently  still  I 
shall  dine  alone  in  my  apartment  with  Miss  Grif- 
fith, as  did  my  grandmother.  My  mother  often 
dines  out  I  am  no  longer  surprised  at  the  little 
interest  which  my  family  take  in  me.  My  dear,  at 
Paris,  it  requires  heroism  to  love  those  who  are 
near  us,  for  we  are  not  often  by  ourselves.  How 
the  absent  are  forgotten  in  this  city!  Still  I 
have  not  yet  set  foot  outside  the  house,  I  know 
nothing;  I  am  waiting  until  I  am  uncountrified,  until 
my  appearance  and  my  air  shall  be  in  harmony 


28  MEMOIRS  OF 

with  this  world,  the  movement  of  which  astonishes 
me,  although  as  yet  I  have  heard  only  its  distant 
murmur.  I  have  only  been  out  in  the  garden.  The 
performances  begin  at  the  Italiens  in  a  few  days. 
My  mother  has  a  box  there.  I  am  almost  crazy  with 
the  desire  to  hear  Italian  music  and  to  see  a  French 
opera.  I  am  commencing  to  break  the  habits  of  the 
convent  to  take  on  those  of  the  wordly  life.  I  write 
to  you  in  the  evening  up  to  the  time  I  go  to  bed, 
which  now  is  postponed  till  ten  o'clock,  the  hour  at 
which  my  mother  goes  out  when  she  does  not  go  to 
some  theatre.  There  are  a  dozen  theatres  in  Paris. 
My  ignorance  is  crass,  and  I  read  a  great  deal,  but 
I  read  indiscriminately.  One  book  conducts  me  to 
another.  I  find  the  titles  of  several  works  on  the 
cover  of  that  which  I  have ;  but  I  have  no  one  to 
guide  me,  so  that  I  find  some  which  are  very  weari- 
some. That  which  I  have  read  of  modern  literature 
treats  chiefly  of  love,  the  subject  which  occupies  us 
so  much,  since  all  our  destiny  is  made  by  man  and 
for  man ;  but  how  much  these  authors  are  below  two 
young  girls  named  the  white  lamb  and  the  darling, 
Renee  and  Louise!  Ah,  dear  angel,  what  poor 
events,  what  extravagance,  and  how  unworthy  is 
the  expression  of  this  sentiment !  Two  books,  how- 
ever, have  pleased  me  strangely,  the  one  is  Co- 
rinne  and  the  other  Adolphe.  In  connection  with 
this,  I  asked  my  father  if  I  could  see  Madame  de 
Stae'l.  My  mother,  my  father,  and  Alphonse  com- 
menced to  laugh.  Alphonse  said: 
"Where  does  she  come  from,  then?" 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  29 

My  father  replied: 

"We  are  very  stupid,  she  comes  from  the  Car- 
melites." 

"My  daughter,  Madame  de  Stae'l  is  dead,"  said 
the  duchess  to  me  gently. 

"How  can  a  woman  be  deceived?"  I  asked  Miss 
Griffith  when  I  finished  Adolphe. 

"Why,  when  she  loves,"  said  Miss  Griffith  to  me. 

Tell  me  then,  Renee,  could  a  man  deceive  us? — 
Miss  Griffith  has  ended  by  perceiving  that  I  am 
only  half  silly,  that  I  have  an  unknown  educa- 
tion, that  which  we  have  given  to  each  other  in 
reasoning  indefinitely.  She  has  understood  that 
my  ignorance  relates  only  to  exterior  things.  The 
poor  creature  has  opened  her  heart  to  me.  This 
laconic  response,  set  in  the  balance  against  all 
imaginable  misfortunes,  has  caused  me  a  slight 
shudder.  My  Griffith  has  repeatedly  warned  me 
not  to  allow  myself  to  be  dazzled  by  anything  in  the 
world  and  to  be  suspicious  of  everything,  principally 
of  that  which  pleases  me  the  most  She  does  not 
know  and  can  tell  me  nothing  further.  This  dis- 
course is  too  monotonous.  She  is  in  this  like  that 
bird  which  has  only  one  cry. 

Ill 

THE  SAME  TO  THE  SAME 

December. 

My  dear,  here  I  am  ready  to  enter  into  the  world; 
thus  have  I  endeavored  to  be  very  foolish  before 


30  MEMOIRS  OF 

composing  myself  for  it.  This  morning,  after  many 
trials,  I  have  seen  myself  well  and  duly  corseted, 
shod,  laced,  coiff'ee,  dressed,  adorned.  I  have  done  like 
the  duelist  before  the  combat, — I  have  exercised 
myself  behind  closed  doors.  I  wish  to  see  myself 
under  arms,  I  very  willingly  found  in  myself  a 
little  conquering  and  triumphant  air  to  which  it 
would  be  necessary  to  surrender.  I  examined  my- 
self and  judged  myself.  I  passed  in  review  all  my 
forces,  putting  into  practice  this  fine  maxim  of  an- 
tiquity: "Know  thyself!"  I  have  had  infinite 
pleasure  in  making  my  own  acquaintance.  Griffith 
alone  was  in  the  secret  of  my  doll's  play.  I  was  at 
once  the  doll  and  the  child.  You  think  you  know 
me?  Not  the  least  in  the  world! 

Here,  Renee,  is  the  portrait  of  your  sister  formerly 
disguised  as  a  Carmelite  and  now  resuscitated  as  a 
light  and  worldly  young  woman.  Provence  ex- 
cepted,  I  am  one  of  the  most  beautiful  persons  in 
France.  This  appears  to  me  to  be  the  true  sum- 
ming up  of  this  agreeable  chapter.  I  have  defects; 
but,  if  I  were  a  man,  I  should  love  them.  These 
defects  come  from  the  hopes  which  I  give.  When 
one  has  been  admiring  for  fifteen  days  the  exquisite 
roundness  of  the  arms  of  a  mother,  and  this  mother 
is  the  Duchesse  de  Chaulieu,  my  dear,  one  is  un- 
happy at  seeing  the  thinness  of  her  own  arms;  but 
there  is  consolation  in  finding  the  wrist  fine,  a  cer- 
tain suavity  of  lines  in  those  hollows  which  one 
day  a  flesh  like  satin  will  come  to  dimple,  to  round 
and  to  model.  The  somewhat  dried  design  of  the 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  31 

arms  repeats  itself  in  the  shoulders.  To  tell  the 
truth,  I  have  no  shoulders,  but  hard  shoulder-blades 
which  form  two  harsh  planes.  My  figure  is  equally 
without  suppleness,  the  sides  are  stiff.  Ouf!  I 
have  told  all.  But  these  profiles  are  fine  and  firm, 
health  bites  with  its  lively  and  pure  flame  these 
nervous  lines,  life  and  a  blue  blood  flow  in  waves 
under  a  transparent  skin.  Why,  the  very  blondest 
daughter  of  Eve,  the  blonde,  is  a  negress  beside  me! 
Why,  I  have  the  foot  of  a  gazelle!  Why,  all  the 
outlines  are  delicate,  and  I  possess  the  correct  fea- 
tures of  a  Greek  design.  The  flesh  tones  are  not 
blended,  it  is  true,  mademoiselle;  but  they  are  vi- 
vacious :  I  am  a  very  pretty  green  fruit,  and  I  have 
of  it  the  green  graciousness.  In  short,  I  resemble 
the  figure  which  in  the  old  missal  of  my  aunt,  rises 
from  a  violet-colored  lily.  My  blue  eyes  are  not 
stupid,  they  are  proud,  surrounded  by  two  margins 
of  living  mother-of-pearl  shaded  by  pretty  little 
fibres  and  on  which  my  long  and  crowded  lashes 
resemble  silken  fringes.  My  forehead  dazzles,  my 
hair  has  the  roots  deliciously  planted,  it  presents 
little  waves  of  pale  gold,  darkened  in  the  middle  and 
from  which  escape  a  few  mutinous  hairs  which  as- 
sert with  sufficient  clearness  that  I  am  not  a  faded 
and  fainting  blonde,  but  a  Southern  blonde  and  full 
of  blood,  a  blonde  who  strikes  instead  of  allowing 
herself  to  be  attacked.  The  hairdresser,  did  he  not 
want  to  smooth  it  down  into  two  bands  and  place  on 
my  forehead  a  pearl  held  by  a  golden  chain,  saying  to 
me  that  I  would  have  the  style  of  the  Middle  Ages. 


32  MEMOIRS  OF 

Know  that  I  am  not  of  an  age  to  be  in  the  Mid- 
dle, and  to  put  on  an  ornament  which  is  intended 
to  make  more  youthful ! 

My  nose  is  thin,  the  nostrils  are  well  cut  and  sep- 
arated by  a  charming  pink  partition;  it  is  impe- 
rious, mocking,  and  its  extremity  is  too  nervous  to 
ever  grow  gross  or  to  redden.  My  dear  lamb,  if  all 
this  is  not  enough  to  cause  a  young  girl  to  be  taken 
without  a  dot,  I  do  not  know  myself.  My  ears  have 
coquettish  windings,  a  pearl  at  the  end  of  each 
would  seem  yellow.  My  neck  is  long,  it  has  that 
serpentine  movement  which  gives  so  much  majesty. 
In  the  shadow,  its  whiteness  becomes  golden.  Ah! 
I  have  perhaps  a  somewhat  large  mouth,  but  it  is  so 
expressive,  the  lips  are  of  such  a  beautiful  color, 
the  teeth  laugh  with  so  good  a  grace !  And  then, 
my  dear,  everything  is  in  harmony, — there  is 
a  walk,  there  is  a  voice!  One  remembers  the 
movements  of  the  petticoats  of  her  ancestress,  who 
never  equaled  this.  In  short,  I  am  beautiful  and 
graceful. 

According  to  my  whim,  I  can  laugh  as  we  have 
often  laughed  and  I  would  be  respected, — there  will 
be  something  indescribably  striking  in  the  dimples 
which  the  light  fingers  of  Pleasantry  will  make  in 
my  white  cheeks.  I  can  lower  my  eye  and  give 
myself  a  heart  of  ice  under  my  front  of  snow.  I 
can  offer  the  melancholy  neck  of  the  swan  in  posing 
as  a  Madonna,  and  the  Virgins  designed  by  the 
painters  will  be  at  a  hundred  degrees  below  me;  I 
shall  be  higher  than  they  in  the  heaven.  A  man 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  33 

will  be  forced,  to  speak  to  me,  to  change  his  voice 
into  music. 

I  am  then  armed  at  all  points  and  can  range  the 
keyboard  of  coquetry  from  the  gravest  notes  up  to 
the  most  flute-like  sound.  It  is  an  immense  advan- 
tage not  to  be  uniform.  My  mother  is  neither 
frolicsome  nor  virginal ;  she  is  exclusively  worthy, 
imposing,  she  cannot  issue  from  that  but  to  become 
leonine;  when  she  wounds,  she  cures  with  diffi- 
culty; I,  I  shall  know  how  to  wound  and  to  cure. 
I  am  entirely  different  from  my  mother.  Thus 
there  will  be  no  possible  rivalry  between  us,  unless 
we  should  come  to  dispute  over  the  greater  or  less 
degree  of  perfection  of  our  extreme  ranges  which 
resemble  each  other.  I  take  after  my  father,  he  is 
fine  and  slender.  I  have  the  manners  of  my  grand- 
mother and  her  charming  tone  of  voice,  a  voice  from 
the  head  when  it  is  forced,  a  melodious  chest  voice 
in  the  medium  of  the  t§te-ci-tete. '  It  seems  to  me  that 
it  is  only  to-day  that  I  have  left  the  convent.  I  do 
not  yet  exist  for  the  world,  I  am  unknown  to  it 
What  a  delicious  moment!  I  belong  to  myself  still, 
like  a  flower  which  has  not  been  seen  and  which 
has  just  opened.  Well,  my  angel,  when  I  have 
walked  about  in  my  salon  looking  at  myself,  when  I 
have  seen  the  ingenuous  possessions  of  the  boarding- 
school  girl  all  cast  aside,  my  heart  has  experienced 
an  inexpressible  feeling, — regrets  for  the  past,  in- 
quietude for  the  future,  fears  of  the  world,  farewells 
to  our  pale  marguerites  innocently  gathered, thought- 
lessly stripped  of  their  leaves;  there  was  all  of 
3 


34  MEMOIRS  OF 

that;  but  there  were  also  those  fantastic  ideas 
which  I  send  back  into  the  depths  of  my  soul,  where 
I  dare  not  descend  and  from  whence  they  come. 

My  Renee,  I  have  the  trousseau  of  a  bride!  The 
whole  is  well  arranged,  perfumed  in  the  drawers  of 
cedar  and  in  the  lacquered  front  of  a  delicious  cabi- 
net de  toilette.  I  have  ribbons,  shoes,  gloves,  every- 
thing in  profusion.  My  father  has  graciously  given 
me  the  jewels  for  a  young  girl, — a  dressing-case,  a 
dressing-glass,  a  perfuming  pan,  a  fan,  an  umbrella, 
a  book  of  prayers,  a  gold  chain,  a  cashmere;  he  has 
promised  to  have  me  taught  to  ride  horseback. 
Finally,  I  know  how  to  dance!  To-morrow,  yes, 
to-morrow  evening,  I  shall  be  presented.  My  toilet 
is  a  dress  of  white  muslin.  I  shall  have  for  head- 
dress a  garland  of  white  roses  tilagrecque.  I  will 
put  on  my  Madonna  air, — I  wish  to  be  very  stupid 
and  to  have  the  women  on  my  side.  My  mother  is 
a  thousand  leagues  from  what  I  am  writing  to  you, 
she  believes  me  incapable  of  reflection.  If  she  read 
my  letter,  she  would  be  stupid  with  astonishment. 
My  brother  honors  me  with  a  profound  contempt, 
and  continues  to  me  the  bounties  of  his  indifference. 
He  is  a  handsome  man,  but  whimsical  and  melan- 
choly. I  have  his  secret:  neither  the  duke  nor  the 
duchess  have  discovered  it  Although  duke  and 
young,  he  is  jealous  of  his  father,  he  is  nothing  in 
the  government,  he  has  no  office  at  the  Court,  he 
has  no  occasion  to  say:  "I  must  go  to  the  Cham- 
ber." I  am  the  only  one  in  the  house  who  has  six- 
teen hours  for  reflection.  My  father  is  buried  in 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  35 

public  affairs  and  in  his  pleasures,  my  mother  is  also 
occupied;  no  one  reacts  upon  another  in  the  house- 
hold, everyone  is  always  out,  there  is  not  enough 
time  for  living.  I  am  curious  to  excess  to  know 
what  invincible  attraction  the  world  possesses  to 
keep  you  every  evening  from  nine  o'clock  to  two  or 
three  in  the  morning,  to  make  you  undergo  such 
heavy  expense  and  to  support  so  many  fatigues.  In 
desiring  to  enter  it,  I  do  not  imagine  for  myself 
such  vast  distances,  similar  intoxications;  but  in 
truth  I  forget  that  it  is  a  question  of  Paris.  Thus, 
then,  people  may  live  near  each  other,  in  the  bosom 
of  a  family,  and  not  know  each  other.  A  quasi-nun 
arrives,  and  in  two  weeks  she  perceives  that  which 
a  statesman  does  not  see  in  his  own  household. 
Perhaps  he  does  see  it,  and  there  is  a  paternal  feel- 
ing in  his  voluntary  blindness.  I  will  investigate 
this  obscure  corner 

IV 

THE  SAME  TO  THE   SAME 

December  15. 

Yesterday,  at  two  o'clock,  I  went  to  take  my 
promenade  in  the  Champs-^lysees  and  in  the  Bois 
de  Boulogne  on  one  of  those  autumnal  days  such  as 
we  have  so  often  admired  on  the  banks  of  the  Loire. 
I  have  finally  seen  Paris!  The  aspect  of  the  Place 
Louis  XV.  is  truly  beautiful,  but  of  that  beauty 
which  men  create.  I  was  very  well  arrayed,  mel- 
ancholy, though  very  well  disposed  to  laugh,  my 


36  MEMOIRS  OF 

countenance  pale  under  a  charming  hat,  my  arms 
crossed.  I  did  not  receive  the  least  smile,  1  did  not 
even  make  one  poor  little  young  man  stand  still 
stupefied,  no  one  turned  around  to  see  me,  and  yet 
the  carriage  went  with  a  slowness  in  harmony  with 
my  appearance.  I  am  mistaken,  a  charming  duke 
who  passed  suddenly  turned  his  horse.  This  man 
who,  alone  of  the  whole  public,  saved  my  vanity, 
was  my  father,  whose  pride,  as  he  said  to  me,  was 
agreeably  flattered.  I  met  my  mother,  who  with 
the  end  of  her  finger  sent  me  a  little  salutation 
which  resembled  a  kiss.  My  Griffith,  who  sus- 
pected no  one,  looked  about  her  right  and  left.  Ac- 
cording to  my  ideas,  a  young  person  should  always 
know  where  she  directs  her  looks.  I  was  furious. 
One  man  very  seriously  examined  my  carriage 
without  paying  any  attention  to  me.  This  flatterer 
was  probably  a  carriage-maker.  I  have  deceived 
myself  in  the  valuation  of  my  powers, — beauty, 
that  rare  privilege  which  God  alone  can  give,  is 
then  more  common  at  Paris  than  I  had  supposed. 
The  affected  women  were  graciously  saluted.  At 
the  flushed  faces,  men  said:  "There  she  is!"  My 
mother  was  prodigiously  admired.  This  enigma 
has  an  answer,  and  I  will  seek  it.  The  men,  my 
dear,  seem  to  me  in  general  very  ugly.  Those 
who  are  handsome  are  like  bad  copies  of  us.  I  do 
not  know  what  fatal  genius  invented  their  costume, 
— it  is  surprisingly  awkward  when  it  is  compared 
with  those  of  the  preceding  centuries;  it  is  without 
style,  without  color  or  poetry;  it  addresses  itself 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  37 

neither  to  the  senses,  nor  to  the  spirit,  nor  to  the 
eye,  and  it  should  be  very  inconvenient;  it  is  with- 
out amplitude,  curtailed.  The  hat  particularly 
struck  me, — it  is  a  section  of  a  column,  it  does  not 
take  the  shape  of  the  head ;  but  it  is,  I  have  been 
told,  easier  to  make  a  revolution  than  to  make  the 
hat  graceful.  Courage  in  France  recoils  at  the  idea 
of  wearing  a  felt  hat  with  a  round  crown,  and  for 
want  of  a  day's  bravery  one  goes  ridiculously  cov- 
ered during  a  whole  lifetime.  And  the  French  are 
said  to  be  so  1  ight !  The  men  are  moreover  per- 
fectly horrible,  no  matter  in  what  fashion  they 
cover  their  heads.  I  saw  only  hard  and  fatigued 
faces,  in  which  there  is  neither  calm  not  tranquil- 
lity; the  lines  are  harsh  and  the  wrinkles  announce 
thwarted  ambitions,  unhappy  vanities.  A  fine 
forehead  is  rare. 

"Ah!  these  are  the  Parisians!"  I  said  to  Miss 
Griffith. 

"Pleasant  men,  and  very  clever  ones,"  she  re- 
plied to  me. 

I  was  silent  A  single  woman  of  thirty-six  has 
plenty  of  indulgence  in  the  bottom  of  her  heart 

In  the  evening  I  went  to  the  ball,  and  I  kept  my- 
self by  the  side  of  my  mother,  who  gave  me  her 
arm  with  a  devotion  that  was  well  rewarded.  The 
honors  were  all  for  her,  I  furnished  the  pretext  for 
the  most  agreeable  flatteries.  She  had  the  clever- 
ness to  make  me  dance  with  imbeciles  who  all  spoke 
of  the  heat  as  if  I  had  been  frozen,  and  of  the  beauty 
of  the  ball  as  if  I  were  blind.  Not  one  of  them 


38  MEMOIRS  OF 

failed  to  go  into  ecstasies  over  a  most  strange,  un- 
heard-of, extraordinary,  singular,  grotesque  thing, 
and  that  was  to  see  me  there  for  the  first  time.  My 
toilet,  which  seemed  to  me  ravishing  in  my  little 
white  and  gold  salon  where  I  parade  all  alone,  was 
scarcely  noticeable  in  the  midst  of  the  marvelous 
dresses  of  the  majority  of  the  women.  Each  one  of 
them  had  her  faithful  servitor,  she  observed  him 
out  of  the  corner  of  her  eye ;  several  of  them  were 
brilliant  with  a  triumphant  beauty,  as  was  my 
mother.  At  a  ball,  a  young  person  does  not  count, 
she  is  a  dancing-machine.  The  men,  with  rare  ex- 
ceptions, are  no  better  than  those  of  the  Champs- 
Elysees.  They  are  worn,  their  features  are  without 
character,  or  rather  they  have  all  the  same  charac- 
ter. That  proud  and  vigorous  carriage  which  our 
ancestors  have  in  their  portraits,  and  in  which 
physical  strength  is  joined  to  moral  strength,  no 
longer  exists.  However,  there  was  in  this  assembly 
one  man  of  great  talent  who  was  noticeable  among 
the  throng  for  the  beauty  of  his  countenance,  but 
he  did  not  cause  me  the  lively  emotion  which  he 
should  have  communicated.  I  am  not  acquainted 
with  his  works,  and  he  is  not  a  gentleman  born. 
Whatever  may  be  the  genius  or  the  qualities  of  a 
bourgeois  or  of  a  man  lately  ennobled,  I  have  not  in 
my  blood  one  solitary  drop  for  him.  Moreover,  I 
found  him  so  much  occupied  with  himself,  so  little 
with  others,  that  he  made  it  seem  to  me  as  though 
we  should  be  only  things  and  not  beings  for  these 
great  seekers  of  ideas.  When  men  of  talent  love, 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  39 

they  should  no  longer  write,  or  they  will  not  love. 
There  is  something  in  their  brains  which  takes  the 
precedence  of  their  mistress.  I  seemed  to  see  all 
this  in  the  appearance  of  this  man,  who  is,  it  is 
said,  professor,  speaker,  author,  and  whom  ambition 
makes  the  most  assiduous  servitor.  I  came  to  my 
decision  immediately, — I  considered  it  very  un- 
worthy of  myself  to  be  vexed  with  the  world  at  my 
want  of  success,  and  I  gave  myself  up  to  dancing 
without  any  cares.  Moreover,  I  found  pleasure  in 
dancing.  I  heard  a  great  deal  of  gossip  without 
any  point  in  it  concerning  unknown  people;  but 
perhaps  it  is  necessary  to  know  a  great  many  things 
of  which  I  am  ignorant  in  order  to  appreciate  it,  for 
I  saw  most  of  the  men  and  women  taking  a  very 
lively  pleasure  in  saying  or  hearing  certain  phrases. 
The  world  offers  an  enormous  number  of  enigmas 
the  answers  to  which  seem  difficult  to  find.  There 
are  in  it  multiplied  intrigues.  I  have  sufficiently 
keen  eyes  and  a  fine  hearing;  as  to  the  understand- 
ing, you  are  acquainted  with  it,  Mademoiselle  de 
Maucombe ! 

I  returned  weary  of  it  all  and  happy  in  this  weari- 
ness. I  very  ingenuously  described  my  feelings 
to  my  mother,  in  whose  company  I  was,  and  who 
told  me  to  make  these  sorts  of  confidences  only  to 
her. 

"My  dear  little  one,"  she  added,  "good  taste  con- 
sists as  much  in  the  recognition  of  those  things  con- 
cerning which  one  should  be  silent  as  in  that  of 
those  things  which  one  may  say." 


40  MEMOIRS  OF 

This  recommendation  enabled  me  to  comprehend 
those  feelings  concerning  which  we  should  keep 
silence  with  all  the  world,  even  perhaps  with  our 
mother.  I  measured  with  one  glance  of  the  eye  the 
vast  field  of  feminine  dissimulation.  I  can  assure 
you,  my  dear  lamb,  that  we  will  make,  with  all  the 
effrontery  of  our  innocence,  two  little  gossips  pass- 
ably awake  to  what  is  going  on.  How  much  in- 
struction in  a  finger  placed  upon  the  lips,  in  a  word, 
in  a  look!  I  became  excessively  timid  in  a  moment. 
What!  not  to  be  able  to  express  the  happiness  that 
is  naturally  caused  by  the  movements  of  the  dance! 
"But,"  I  said  to  myself,  "what  will  then  become  of 
our  sentiments  ?"  I  went  to  bed  sad.  I  am  still 
feeling  keenly  the  results  of  this  first  encounter  of 
my  fresh  and  gay  nature  with  the  hard  laws  of  the 
world.  Already  some  of  my  white  wool  is  left  on 
the  bushes  by  the  roadside !  Adieu,  my  angel. 

V 

RENE'S  DE  MAUCOMBE  TO  LOUISE  DE  CHAULIEU 

October. 

How  much  your  letter  moved  me!  affected  me 
above  all  by  the  comparison  of  our  destinies.  In 
what  a  brilliant  world  are  you  going  to  live!  in 
what  a  peaceful  retreat  shall  I  finish  my  obscure 
career !  Two  weeks  after  my  arrival  at  the  Chateau 
de  Maucombe,  of  which  I  have  already  told  you  too 
much  to  tell  you  any  more,  and  where  I  found  my 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  41 

chamber  almost  in  the  same  state  in  which  I  left  it, 
but  from  which  I  have  been  able  to  comprehend  the 
sublime  landscape  of  the  valley  of  Gemenos  which 
as  a  child  I  looked  at  without  seeing  anything  there, 
my  father  and  my  mother,  accompanied  by  my  two 
brothers,  took  me  to  dine  at  the  house  of  one  of  our 
neighbors,  an  old  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade,  a  gentle- 
man become  very  rich  as  one  becomes  rich  in  the 
provinces,  through  avarice.  This  old  man  had  not 
been  able  to  save  his  only  son  from  the  rapacity  of 
Bonaparte ;  after  having  kept  him  from  the  conscrip- 
tion, he  was  obliged  to  send  him  to  the  army  in 
1813,  as  a  guard  of  honor:  since  Leipsic,  the  old 
Baron  de  1'Estorade  had  never  heard  from  him. 
Monsieur  de  Montriveau,  whom  Monsieur  de  1'Es- 
torade  went  to  see  in  1814,  declared  to  him  that  he 
had  seen  him  taken  by  the  Russians.  Madame  de 
PEstorade  died  of  grief  after  making  fruitless  in- 
quiries in  Russia.  The  baron,  a  very  Christian  old 
man,  practised  that  fine  theological  virtue  which 
we  cultivated  at  Blois — Hope!  This  virtue  caused 
him  to  see  his  son  in  dreams,  and  he  accumulated 
his  revenues  for  the  son ;  he  took  charge  of  the 
share  of  this  son  in  the  inheritance  which  came  to 
him  from  the  family  of  the  late  Madame  de  1'Esto- 
rade. No  one  had  the  courage  to  jest  with  this  old 
man.  I  ended  by  divining  that  the  unhoped-for  re- 
turn of  this  son  was  the  cause  of  mine.  Who  would 
have  said  to  us  that,  during  the  vagabond  wander- 
ings of  our  imaginations,  my  intended  was  slowly 
traversing  on  foot  Russia,  Poland,  and  Germany? 


42  MEMOIRS  OF 

His  evil  destiny  only  ceased  at  Berlin,  where  the 
French  minister  facilitated  his  return  to  France. 
Monsieur  de  1'Estorade,  the  father,  a  little  gentle- 
man of  Provence,  with  a  fortune  of  about  ten  thou- 
sand francs'  income,  has  not  a  name  sufficiently  well 
known  in  Europe  for  much  interest  to  be  taken  in 
the  Chevalier  de  1'Estorade,  whose  name  was  so 
peculiarly  appropriate  to  the  adventurer. 

Twelve  thousand  francs,  the  annual  product  of 
the  property  of  Madame  de  1'Estorade,  accumulated 
with  the  paternal  savings,  make  for  the  poor  guard 
of  honor  a  considerable  fortune  in  Provence,  some- 
thing like  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  francs,  in 
addition  to  his  real  estate.  The  goodman  L'Esto- 
rade  had  bought,  the  evening  of  the  day  on  which 
he  was  again  to  see  the  Chevalier,  a  fine  estate 
badly  administered,  where  he  proposed  to  set  out 
ten  thousand  mulberry  trees  which  he  had  pur- 
posely grown  in  his  nursery,  foreseeing  this  pur- 
chase. The  baron,  on  finding  his  son  again  had 
but  one  thought,  to  marry  him,  and  to  marry  him  to 
a  noble  young  girl.  My  father  and  my  mother  had 
adopted  for  my  sake  their  neighbor's  idea  as  soon  as 
the  old  man  had  announced  to  them  his  intention  to 
take  Renee  de  Maucombe  without  a  dot,  and  to 
recognize  for  her  in  the  contract  all  the  property 
which  might  come  to  the  aforesaid  Renee  in  their 
inheritance.  At  the  time  of  his  majority,  my 
younger  brother,  Jean  de  Maucombe,  acknowledged 
having  received  from  his  parents  an  advance  on  the 
inheritance  equal  to  a  third  of.  the  heritage.  This 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  43 

is  how  the  noble  families  of  Provence  elude  the  pro- 
visions of  the  infamous  Civil  Code  of  the  Sieur  de 
Bonaparte,  which  would  cause  to  be  sent  to  the 
convents  as  many  noble  daughters  as  it  married. 
The  French  nobility  is,  according  to  the  little  which 
I  have  heard  said  on  this  subject,  very  much  divided 
in  opinion  on  these  grave  matters. 

This  dinner,  my  dear  mignonne,  was  an  inter- 
view between  your  lamb  and  the  exile.  Let  us 
proceed  in  due  order.  The  people  of  the  Comte  de 
Maucombe  had  arrayed  themselves  in  their  old  em- 
broidered liveries,  with  laced  hats;  the  coachman 
had  put  on  his  big  top  boots ;  there  were  five  of  us 
in  the  old  carriage,  and  we  arrived  in  great  state 
about  two  o'clock,  to  dine  at  three,  at  the  country 
house  in  which  dwelt  the  Baron  de  1'Estorade.  The 
father-in-law  has  no  chateau  but  a  simple  house  in 
the  country,  situated  at  the  foot, of  one  of  our  hills, 
at  the  opening  of  our  beautiful  valley,  the  pride  of 
which  is  certainly  the  old  Castle  of  Maucombe. 
This  country  house  is  a  country  house, — four  walls 
of  pebbles  united  by  a  yellowish  cement,  covered 
with  hollow  tiles  of  a  fine  red.  The  roofs  bend 
under  the  weight  of  this  brick-field.  The  windows, 
pierced  through  the  walls  without  any  symmetry, 
have  enormous  shutters  painted  yellow.  The  garden 
which  surrounds  this  habitation  is  a  Provencal 
garden,  inclosed  in  low  walls  built  of  big  round 
pebbles  laid  in  courses,  and  in  which  the  genius  of 
the  mason  displays  itself  in  the  manner  in  which  he 
disposes  them  alternately  inclined  or  upright, — the 


44  MEMOIRS  OF 

facing  of  plaster  which  covers  them  is  falling  in 
places.  The  domanial  appearance  of  this  country 
house  is  owing  to  an  iron  gate  at  the  entrance,  on 
the  road.  There  was  long  weeping  before  this  gate 
was  acquired ;  it  is  so  thin  that  it  reminds  me  of 
Sister  Angel ique.  The  house  is  approached  by  a 
flight  of  stone  steps,  the  door  is  decorated  with  a 
little  portico  which  a  peasant  of  the  Loire  would  not 
have  for  his  elegant  house  in  white  stone  with  a 
blue  roof,  on  which  the  sun  glitters.  The  garden, 
the  surroundings,  are  horribly  dusty,  the  trees  are 
burnt  It  is  easy  to  see,  that,  since  a  long  time, 
the  life  of  the  baron  has  consisted  in  rising,  in 
going  to  bed  and  in  rising  again  the  next  day  with- 
out any  other  care  than  that  of  piling  sou  upon  sou. 
He  eats  what  his  two  domestics  eat,  they  are  a  Pro- 
vencal youth  and  his  wife's  old  femme  de  chambre. 
The  rooms  have  but  little  furniture.  However,  the 
house  of  L'Estorade  was  rejuvenated  and  adorned, 
— it  had  emptied  its  closets,  convoked  the  ban  and 
the  arriere-ban  of  its  serfs  for  this  dinner,  which 
was  served  to  us  in  old  silver,  blackened  and 
dented.  The  exile,  my  dear  mignonne,  is  like  the 
iron  gate,  very  thin!  He  is  pale,  he  has  suffered, 
he  is  taciturn.  At  thirty-seven,  he  looks  as  though 
he  were  fifty  years  old.  The  ebony  of  his  ex-hand- 
some young  man's  hair  is  mingled  with  white  like 
the  wing  of  a  lark.  His  fine  blue  eyes  are  hollow; 
he  is  a  little  deaf,  which  makes  him  resemble  the 
Knight  of  the  Sorrowful  Countenance ;  nevertheless, 
I  have  graciously  consented  to  become  Madame  de 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  45 

PEstorade,  to  permit  myself  to  be  given  a  dot  of  two 
hundred  and  fifty  thousand  francs,  but  on  the  ex- 
press condition  of  being  mistress,  of  arranging  the 
country  house  and  of  making  of  it  a  park.  I  have 
formally  exacted  from  my  father  a  condition  that  he 
shall  concede  to  me  a  small  supply  of  water  which 
can  be  brought  from  Maucombe  here.  In  a  month  I 
shall  be  Madame  de  PEstorade,  for  I  pleased,  my 
dear.  After  the  snows  of  Siberia,  a  man  is  very 
well  disposed  to  find  merit  in  those  black  eyes, 
which,  as  you  said,  would  ripen  the  fruits  that  I 
looked  at.  Louis  de  PEstorade  appears  to  be  ex- 
cessively happy  to  marry  the  beautiful  Renee  de 
Maucombe,  such  is  the  glorious  appellation  of  your 
friend.  Whilst  you  are  making  ready  to  harvest 
the  pleasures  of  that  much  more  vast  existence, 
that  of  a  Demoiselle  de  Chaulieu  in  Paris  where 
you  will  reign,  your  poor  lamb,  Renee,  that  daugh- 
ter of  the  desert,  has  fallen  from  the  Empyrean 
into  which  we  lifted  ourselves  to  the  common  reali- 
ties of  a  destiny  simple  as  that  of  an  Easter  daisy. 
Yes,  I  have  sworn  to  myself  to  console  this  young 
man  without  youth,  who  passed  from  the  maternal 
lap  to  that  of  war,  and  from  the  joys  of  his  country 
house  to  the  ice  and  to  the  labors  of  Siberia.  The 
uniformity  of  my  coming  days  will  be  varied  by 
the  humble  pleasures  of  the  country.  I  will  con- 
tinue the  oasis  of  the  valley  of  Gemenos  around  my 
house,  which  shall  be  majestically  shaded  with 
beautiful  trees.  I  shall  have  lawns  always  green  in 
Provence,  I  shall  make  my  park  ascend  as  far  as  the 


46  MEMOIRS  OF 

hill,  I  will  place  on  the  most  elevated  point  some 
pretty  kiosk  from  which  I  may  see,  perhaps,  the 
brilliant  Mediterranean.  The  orange,  the  lemon 
tree,  the  richest  productions  of  botany  shall  embel- 
lish my  retreat,  and  I  will  there  be  a  materfamilias. 
A  poesy  natural,  indestructible,  shall  environ  us. 
While  remaining  faithful  to  my  duties,  no  unhappi- 
ness  is  to  be  feared.  My  Christian  sentiments  are 
shared  by  my  father-in-law  and  by  the  Chevalier 
de  1'Estorade.  Ah!  mignonne,  I  see  life  like  one  of 
those  great  French  roads,  smooth  and  pleasant, 
shaded  with  trees  eternal.  There  will  not  be  two 
Bonapartes  in  this  century :  I  shall  be  able  to  keep 
my  children,  if  I  have  any,  bring  them  up,  make 
of  them  men;  I  will  enjoy  life  for  them.  If  you  do 
not  fail  in  your  destiny,  you  who  are  to  be  the  wife 
of  some  powerful  one  of  the  earth,  the  children  of 
your  Renee  will  have  an  active  protection.  Fare- 
well then,  for  my  part  at  least,  to  the  romances  and 
the  fantastic  situations  in  which  we  made  ourselves 
the  heroines.  I  know  already  in  advance  the  his- 
tory of  my  life:  my  life  will  be  traversed  by  the 
great  events  of  the  teething  of  the  Messieurs  de 
PEstorade,  by  their  nursing,  by  the  damage  which 
they  will  make  in  my  bushes  and  in  my  person, — 
to  embroider  their  bonnets,  to  be  loved  and  admired 
by  a  poor  man  who  is  suffering,  at  the  entrance  of 
the  valley  of  Gemenos,  there  are  my  pleasures. 
Perhaps  one  day  the  countrywoman  will  go  to  live 
in  Marseilles  during  the  winter;  but  even  then 
she  will  only  appear  on  the  narrow  stage  of  the 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  47 

provinces,  in  which  the  side-scenes  are  not  perilous. 
I  shall  have  nothing  to  fear,  not  even  one  of  those 
admirations  which  can  render  us  proud.  We  will 
interest  ourselves  very  much  in  silkworms  for 
which  we  shall  have  mulberry  leaves  to  sell.  We 
shall  know  the  strange  vicissitudes  of  the  provincial 
life  and  the  tempests  of  a  household  without  possi- 
ble quarrel :  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade  announces  his 
formal  intention  to  allow  himself  to  be  ruled  by  his 
wife.  Now,  as  I  will  do  nothing  to  keep  him  in 
this  wisdom,  it  is  probable  that  he  will  persist  in 
it  You  will  be,  my  dear  Louise,  the  romantic  half 
of  my  existence.  Therefore,  relate  to  me  well  all 
your  adventures,  paint  me  the  balls,  the  f£tes,  tell 
me  all  about  how  you  are  dressed,  what  flowers 
crowned  your  beautiful  blonde  hair,  and  the  words 
of  the  men  and  their  manners.  You  will  be  two  to 
listen,  to  dance,  to  feel  the  end  of  your  fingers 
pressed.  I  would  wish  much  to  amuse  myself  at 
Paris,  whilst  you  will  be  mother  of  a  family  at  La 
Crampade,  such  is  the  name  of  our  country  house. 
Poor  man,  who  thought  to  marry  only  one  woman! 
Will  he  perceive  that  there  are  two?  I  am  com- 
mencing to  say  foolishnesses.  As  I  can  only  do 
them  by  proxy,  I  stop.  Therefore,  a  kiss  on  each 
of  thy  cheeks,  my  lips  are  still  those  of  a  young 
girl — he  only  dared  to  take  my  hand.  Oh!  we  are 
of  a  respectfulness  and  a  conventionality  sufficiently 
disquieting.  Well,  I  am  recommencing — .  Adieu, 
dear. 

P.  S. — I  have  just  opened  your  third  letter.     My 


48  MEMOIRS  OF 

dear,  I  can  dispose  of  about  a  thousand  francs, — 
spend  them  for  me  in  those  pretty  things  which  are 
not  found  in  these  surroundings,  nor  even  at  Mar- 
seilles. In  going  around  for  yourself  think  of  your 
recluse  of  La  Crampade.  Think  that,  neither  on 
one  side  nor  the  other,  have  the  grandparents  any 
people  of  taste  in  Paris  to  make  their  purchases.  I 
will  reply  later  to  this  letter. 


VI 

DON  FELIPE  HENAREZ  TO  DON  FERNAND 

Paris,  September. 

The  date  of  this  letter  will  inform  you,  my 
brother,  that  the  head  of  your  house  is  not  in  any 
danger.  If  the  massacre  of  our  ancestors  in  the 
Court  of  the  Lions  converted  us  despite  ourselves 
into  Spaniards  and  Christians,  it  has  left  us  the 
prudence  of  the  Arabs;  and  perhaps  I  have  been 
indebted  for  my  safety  to  the  blood  of  Abencerrage 
which  still  flows  in  my  veins.  Fear  rendered  Fer- 
dinand so  good  an  actor,  that  Valdez  believed  in  his 
protestations.  Had  it  not  been  for  me,  this  poor 
admiral  would  have  been  lost.  The  Liberals  will 
never  know  what  a  king  really  is.  But  the  charac- 
ter of  this  Bourbon  has  been  known  to  me  for  a  long 
time:  the  oftener  that  His  Majesty  assured  us  of  his 
protection,  the  more  he  excited  my  suspicion.  A 
true  Spaniard  has  no  need  to  repeat  his  promises. 
Who  talks  too  much  wishes  to  deceive.  Valdez 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  49 

embarked  on  an  English  vessel.  As  for  myself, 
when  the  destinies  of  my  beloved  Spain  were  ruined 
in  Andalusia,  I  wrote  to  the  superintendent  of  my 
property  in  Sardinia  to  take  measures  for  my  safety. 
Some  skilful  coral  fishers  were  waiting  for  me  with 
a  bark  at  a  point  of  the  coast.  When  Ferdinand 
was  recommending  to  the  French  my  capture,  I  was 
in  my  barony  of  Macumer,  in  the  midst  of  bandits 
who  defy  all  the  laws  and  all  vengeances.  The  last 
Hispano-Moorish  House  of  Granada  had  again  found 
the  African  deserts,  even  to  a  Saracen  horse,  in  a 
domain  which  came  to  it  from  the  Saracens.  The 
eyes  of  these  bandits  gleamed  with  joy  and  with  a 
savage  pride  when  they  learned  that  they  were  pro- 
tecting against  the  vendetta  of  the  King  of  Spain 
the  Duke  of  Soria,  their  master,  a  Henarez  indeed, 
the  first  who  had  come  to  visit  them  since  the  time 
when  the  island  had  belonged  to  the  Moors, — they 
who  the  day  before  feared  my  justice !  Twenty-two 
carbines  were  ready  to  level  at  Ferdinand  the  Bour- 
bon, that  son  of  a  race  still  unknown  in  the  day 
when  the  Abencerrages  arrived  as  conquerors  on  the 
banks  of  the  Loire.  I  thought  to  be  able  to  live  on 
the  revenues  of  these  immense  domains,  of  which 
we  have  unhappily  thought  so  little;  but  my  so- 
journ demonstrated  to  me  my  errors  and  the  truth- 
fulness of  the  reports  of  Queverdo.  The  poor  man 
had  twenty-two  men's  lives  at  my  service,  and  not 
a  real;  savannahs  of  twenty  thousand  acres  in  ex- 
tent and  not  a  house;  virgin  forests  and  not  a  piece 
of  furniture!  A  million  piastres  and  the  presence 
4 


50  MEMOIRS  OF 

of  the  master  during  half  a  century  would  be  neces- 
sary to  bring  into  a  state  of  productiveness  these 
magnificent  lands :  I  will  think  of  it  in  the  future. 
The  vanquished  reflect  during  their  flight,  on  them- 
selves and  on  their  lost  cause.  When  I  saw  this 
handsome  corpse  defaced  by  the  monks,  my  eyes 
were  filled  with  tears:  I  recognized  in  it  the  sorrow- 
ful future  of  Spain.  I  heard  at  Marseilles  of  the 
end  of  Riego.  I  reflected  sorrowfully  that  my  life 
also  would  end  in  a  martyrdom,  but  one  obscure 
and  long.  Could  that  be  said  to  be  life  which 
would  neither  consecrate  itself  to  a  country,  or  live 
for  a  woman!  To  love,  to  conquer,  this  double 
aspect  of  the  same  thought  was  the  law  engraved  on 
our  sabres,  written  in  letters  of  gold  on  the  vaults 
of  our  palaces,  incessantly  repeated  in  the  jets  of 
water  which  mount  in  fountains  in  our  marble 
basins.  But  this  law  uselessly  imparts  fanaticism 
to  my  heart:  the  sabre  is  broken,  the  palace  is  in 
ashes,  the  living  spring  is  absorbed  by  the  sterile 
sands. 

This  then  is  my  testament 

Don  Fernand,  you  will  understand  why  I  bridle 
your  ardor  in  ordering  you  to  remain  faithful  to  the 
rey  netto.  As  your  brother  and  your  friend,  I  en- 
treat you  to  obey ;  as  your  master,  I  command  it 
You  will  go  to  the  king,  you  will  ask  of  him  my 
grandeurs  and  my  property,  my  office  and  my  titles; 
he  will  hesitate  perhaps,  he  will  make  a  few  royal 
grimaces;  but  you  will  say  to  him  that  you  are  be- 
loved of  Marie  Heredia,  and  that  Marie  can  only 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  51 

espouse  the  Duke  of  Soria.  You  will  then  see  him 
shake  with  joy:  the  immense  fortune  of  the  Here- 
dias  will  prevent  him  from  consummating  my  ruin: 
it  will  appear  to  him  thus  complete,  you  will  im- 
mediately receive  all  my  spoils.  You  will  espouse 
Marie :  I  had  surprised  the  secret  of  your  mutual 
love  so  valiantly  struggled  against.  Thus  I  have 
prepared  the  old  count  for  this  substitution.  Marie 
and  I,  we  bowed  to  the  conventionalities  and  to  the 
wishes  of  our  fathers.  You  are  as  handsome  as  a 
love-child,  I  am  as  ugly  as  a  grandee  of  Spain; 
you  are  beloved,  I  am  the  object  of  an  unavowed 
repugnance;  you  will  soon  have  over  come  the  slight 
resistance  that  my  misfortune  will  perhaps  inspire 
in  this  noble  Spanish  lady.  As  Duke  of  Soria,  your 
predecessor  will  not  wish  to  cost  you  a  regret  nor 
deprive  you  of  a  maravedi.  As  the  jewels  of  Marie 
can  fill  the  place  which  my  mother's  diamonds 
would  have  occupied  in  your  house,  you  will  send 
me  these  diamonds,  which  will  be  sufficient  to  assure 
the  independence  of  my  life,  by  my  nurse,  the  old 
Urraca,  the  only  person  whom  I  wish  to  keep  of  my 
household  retinue:  she  alone  knows  how  to  pre- 
pare my  chocolate. 

During  our  short  revolution,  my  constant  labors 
reduced  my  living  to  the  simplest  necessities,  and 
the  salary  of  my  office  provided  for  them.  You  will 
find  the  revenues  of  these  last  two  years  in  the 
hands  of  your  superintendent  This  sum  belongs 
to  me:  the  marriage  of  a  Duke  of  Soria  will  involve 
great  expenses,  we  will  then  share  them.  You  will 


52  MEMOIRS  OF 

not  refuse  the  wedding  present  of  your  brother  the 
bandit  Moreover,  such  is  my  desire.  The  barony 
of  Macumer,  not  being  under  the  hand  of  the  King 
of  Spain,  remains  to  me  and  leaves  me  the  privilege 
of  having  a  country  and  a  name,  if  it  should  happen 
that  I  should  wish  to  become  something. 

God  be  praised,  this  business  is  finished,  the 
House  of  Soria  is  saved ! 

At  the  moment  when  I  am  no  longer  anything  but 
the  Baron  de  Macumer,  the  French  cannon  announce 
the  entry  of  the  Due  d'Angouleme.  You  will  under- 
stand, monsieur,  why  I  interrupt  my  letter  here — 

October. 

When  I  arrived  here,  I  had  not  ten  quadruples.* 
A  statesman,  is  he  not  indeed  little  when,  in  the 
midst  of  catastrophes  which  he  has  not  prevented, 
he  displays  an  egotistical  forethought?  To  the 
vanquished  Moors,  a  horse  and  the  desert;  to  the 
Christians  deceived  in  their  hopes,  the  convent  and 
a  few  pieces  of  gold.  However,  my  resignation  is 
as  yet  nothing  but  weariness.  I  am  not  sufficiently 
near  to  the  monastery  to  no  longer  think  of  living. 
Ozalga  gave  to  me  at  a  great  risk  some  letters  of 
recommendation,  among  which  there  was  one  for  a 
bookseller  who  is  to  our  compatriots  here  that 
which  Galignani  is  to  the  English.  This  man  pro- 
cured for  me  eight  scholars  at  three  francs  a  lesson. 
I  go  to  my  pupils  every  other  day,  I  have  thus  four 

*  Quadruple,  Spanish  coin  of  the  value  of  two  pistoles,  about  $8.75. 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  53 

lessons  a  day  and  earn  twelve  francs,  a  sum  much 
superior  to  my  needs.  When  Urraca  arrives  I  will 
make  the  happiness  of  some  proscribed  Spaniard  by 
passing  over  my  pupils  to  him.  I  am  lodged  in  the 
Rue  Hillerin-Bertin,  in  the  house  of  a  poor  widow 
who  takes  boarders.  My  chamber  faces  south  and 
looks  on  a  little  garden.  I  do  not  hear  any  noise,  I 
see  the  verdure  and  I  do  not  expend  in  all  more  than 
a  piastre  a  day;  I  am  quite  astonished  at  the  calm 
and  pure  pleasures  which  I  taste  in  this  life  of 
Dionysius  at  Corinth.  From  the  rising  of  the  sun 
up  to  ten  o'clock,  I  smoke  and  take  my  chocolate, 
seated  at  my  window,  looking  at  two  Spanish  plants, 
a  genista  which  arises  through  the  masses  of  a  jes- 
samine,— gold  on  a  white  ground,  a  picture  which 
will  always  thrill  a  scion  of  the  Moors.  At  ten 
o'clock,  I  go  out  and  give  my  lessons  up  to  four 
o'clock.  At  that  hour  I  return  to  dine,  I  smoke  and 
I  read  afterwards  until  my  bedtime.  I  can  lead  for 
a  long  time  this  life,  which  mingles  work  and  med- 
itation, solitude  and  the  world.  Do  not  have  any 
apprehensions,  Fernand,  my  abdication  has  been 
accomplished  without  any  afterthought;  it  is  not 
followed  by  any  regret  like  that  of  Charles  V., 
by  any  desire  to  renew  the  struggle  like  that 
of  Napoleon.  Five  nights  and  five  days  have 
passed  since  my  last  will  and  testament,  reflection 
has  made  of  them  five  centuries.  Grandeur,  titles, 
worldy  goods,  are  for  me  as  if  they  had  never  been. 
Now  that  the  barrier  of  respect  which  separated  us 
has  fallen,  I  can,  dear  child,  open  to  you  my  heart 


54  MEMOIRS  OF 

This  heart,  which  gravity  covers  with  an  impene- 
trable armor,  is  full  of  tenderness  and  of  devotions 
without  occupation ;  but  no  woman  has  ever  divined 
it,  not  even  she  who,  from  the  cradle,  was  destined 
for  me.  This  is  the  secret  of  my  ardent  political 
life.  In  default  of  a  mistress,  I  adored  Spain. 
Spain  also  escaped  from  me !  Now  that  I  am  no 
longer  anything,  I  can  contemplate  the  /destroyed, 
ask  myself  why  life  came  to  it  and  when  it  will 
leave  it?  why  the  chivalrous  race  par  excellence  has 
thrown  into  its  last  scion  its  first  virtues,  its  Afri- 
can love,  its  warm  poetry?  if  the  seed  should  pre- 
serve its  rough  envelope  without  pushing  out  any 
stem,  without  dispensing  its  Oriental  perfume  from 
above  a  radiant  calix?  What  crime  had  I  com- 
mitted before  being  born  that  I  have  never  inspired 
love  in  anyone  ?  Have  I  been  then  from  my  birth 
an  ancient  wreck  destined  to  be  cast  away  on  an 
arid  shore  ?  I  find  in  my  soul  the  paternal  deserts, 
lit  by  a  sun  which  burns  them  without  permitting 
anything  to  grow  there.  Proud  remnant  of  a  fallen 
race,  useless  strength,  lost  love,  old  young  man,  I 
will  wait  then  where  I  am,  better  than  anywhere 
else,  the  last  favor  of  death.  Alas!  under  this 
cloudy  sky,  no  spark  will  come  to  reanimate  the 
flame  in  all  these  ashes.  Thus  could  I  say  for  my 
last  word,  as  did  Jesus  Christ:  "My  God,  why 
hast  thou  forsaken  me!"  A  terrible  speech  which 
no  one  has  dared  to  fathom. 

Judge,  Fernand,  how  happy  I  am  to  live  again 
in   you   and   in   Marie!     I   shall   contemplate  you 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  55 

henceforth  with  the  pride  of  a  creator  satisfied  with 
his  work.  Love  each  other  well  and  always,  do  not 
give  me  any  griefs:  a  discord  between  you  would 
distress  me  more  than  it  would  you  yourselves. 
Our  mother  had  foreseen  that  events  would  one  day 
accomplish  her  hopes.  Perhaps  a  mother's  desire 
is  a  contract  exchanged  between  herself  and  God. 
Was  she  not,  moreover,  one  of  those  mysterious  be- 
ings who  can  communicate  with  Heaven  and  who 
bring  from  there  a  vision  of  the  future !  How  many 
times  have  I  not  read  in  the  wrinkles  of  her  fore- 
head that  she  desired  for  Fernand  the  honors  and  the 
estates  of  Felipe!  I  said  so  to  her,  she  replied  to 
me  by  two  tears  showing  me  the  wounds  of  her 
heart  which  was  entirely  devoted  to  us  both,  to  one 
as  to  the  other,  but  which  an  invincible  love  gave 
to  you  alone.  Thus  will  her  joyful  shade  float  over 
your  heads  when  you  bow  before  the  altar.  Will 
you  come  at  last  to  caress  your  Felipe,  Donna 
Clara?  you  see  him, — he  yields  to  your  beloved 
everything,  even  to  the  young  girl  whom  you 
placed  regretfully  on  his  knees.  That  which  I  am 
doing  pleases  the  women,  the  dead,  the  king,  God 
wishes  it,  do  not  then  disarrange  anything  of  it, 
Fernand :  obey  and  keep  silent 

P.  S. — Recommend  to  Urraca  not  to  speak  of  me 
otherwise  than  as  Monsieur  Henarez.  Do  not  say 
a  word  of  me  to  Marie.  You  should  be  the  only 
living  being  who  knows  the  secrets  of  the  last 
Christianized  Moor,  in  whose  veins  will  perish  the 


56  MEMOIRS  OF 

blood  of  the  great  family  born  in  the  desert,  and 
which  is  to  end  in  solitude.     Adieu. 


VII 
LOUISE    DE    CHAULIEU   TO  RENEE    DE    MAUCOMBE 

January,  1824. 

How,  so  soon  married !  but  do  people  take  each 
other  in  this  manner  ?  At  the  end  of  a  month,  you 
promise  yourself  to  a  man,  without  being  acquainted 
with  him,  without  even  knowing  him.  This  man 
may  be  deaf,  there  are  so  many  ways  of  being  so! 
he  may  be  unhealthy,  wearisome,  insupportable. 
Do  you  not  see,  Renee,  what  they  are  going  to  do 
with  you?  You  are  necessary  to  them  to  continue 
the  glorious  house  of  L'Estorade,  and  that  is  all. 
You  are  going  to  become  a  provincial.  Are  these 
our  mutual  promises?  In  your  place,  I  would  rather 
go  and  drift  around  the  Hyeres  Islands  in  a  launch 
until  an  Algerian  corsair  carried  me  off  and  sold  me 
to  the  Grand  Seigneur;  I  would  become  sultana, 
then  some  day  Valide;  I  would  set  the  Seraglio 
topsy-turvy,  and  as  much  while  I  was  young  as 
when  I  was  old.  You  come  out  of  one  convent  to 
enter  into  another !  I  know  you,  you  are  cowardly, 
you  are  going  to  enter  a  household  with  the  submis- 
sion of  a  lamb.  I  will  give  you  some  advice,  you 
will  come  to  Paris,  we  will  here  set  the  men  wild 
and  we  will  become  queens.  Your  husband,  my 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  57 

beautiful  lamb,  can,  in  three  years  from  now,  get 
himself  elected  deputy.  I  know  now  what  a  deputy 
is,  I  will  explain  it  to  you;  you  can  play  very  well 
on  this  machine;  you  can  live  in  Paris  and  there 
become,  as  my  mother  says,  a  woman  d,  la  mode. 
Oh!  I  certainly  will  not  leave  you  in  your  country 
house ! 

Monday. 

It  is  now  two  weeks,  my  dear,  that  I  have  been 
living  a  fashionable  life, — one  evening  at  the  Ita- 
liens,  the  other  at  the  Grand  Opera,  from  there 
always  to  a  ball.  Ah!  the  world  is  a  fairy  spec- 
tacle. The  music  of  the  Italiens  seemed  to  me  rav- 
ishing, and,  while  my  soul  was  swimming  in  a 
divine  pleasure,  I  was  watched  through  the  opera- 
glasses,  admired;  but  with  only  one  look  I  could 
make  the  most  courageous  young  man  lower  his 
eyes.  I  have  seen  there  such  charming  young  per- 
sons; well,  not  one  of  them  has  pleased  me;  none 
has  caused  me  the  emotion  which  I  feel  when  hear- 
ing Garcia  in  his  magnificent  duet  with  Pelegrini 
in  Othello.  Mon  Dieu!  how  that  Rossini  must  have 
been  jealous,  to  have  so  well  expressed  jealousy! 
What  a  cry  that  of  //  mio  cor  si  divide  !  I  am  tal king 
Greek  to  you,  you  have  not  heard  Garcia,  but  you 
know  how  jealous  I  am !  What  a  sorrowful  dram- 
atist is  that  Shakespeare!  Othello  conquers 
glory,  he  gains  victory,  he  commands,  he  parades, 
he  promenades  himself,  leaving  Desdemona  in  her 
corner;  and  Desdemona,  who  sees  him  preferring 


58  MEMOIRS  OF 

the  stupidities  of  public  life  to  her,  does  not  com- 
plain? This  sheep  is  worthy  of  death.  Let  him 
whom  I  shall  deign  to  love  dare  to  do  anything  else 
besides  loving  me!  For  my  part,  I  am  for  the  long 
trials  of  ancient  chivalry.  I  consider  as  very  im- 
pertinent and  very  stupid  that  clown  of  a  young 
lord  who  took  it  ill  that  his  sovereign  lady  sent  him 
to  seek  her  glove  among  the  lions, — she  reserved 
for  him  doubtless  some  fine  flower  of  love,  and  he 
lost  it  after  having  merited  it,  the  insolent!  But  I 
chatter  as  though  I  had  no  great  news  to  reveal  to 
you!  My  father  will  doubtless  go  to  represent  the 
king,  our  master,  at  Madrid :  I  say  our  master,  for  I 
shall  make  part  of  the  embassy.  My  mother  de- 
sires to  remain  here,  my  father  will  take  me  with 
him  so  as  to  have  a  woman  in  his  household. 

My  dear,  you  see  in  this  only  something  very 
simple,  yet  nevertheless,  there  is  in  it  something 
monstrous :  in  two  weeks  I  have  discovered  the  se- 
crets of  the  household.  My  mother  would  follow  my 
father  to  Madrid,  if  he  would  take  Monsieur  Canal  is 
as  Secretary  of  Embassy ;  but  the  king  designates 
the  secretaries,  the  duke  dare  not  go  contrary  to 
the  king,  who  is  very  absolute,  nor  vex  my  mother; 
and  this  great  politician  believes  that  he  has  solved 
the  difficulties  in  leaving  the  duchess  here.  Mon- 
sieur de  Canalis,  the  great  poet  of  the  day,  is  the 
young  man  who  cultivates  my  mother's  society,  and 
who  doubtless  studies  diplomacy  with  her  from 
three  o'clock  to  five.  Diplomacy  must  be  a  fine 
thing,  for  he  is  as  assiduous  as  a  gambler  at  the 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  59 

Bourse.  Monsieur  le  Due  de  Rhetore,  our  eldest, 
solemn,  cold,  and  fantastic,  would  be  eclipsed  by 
his  father  at  Madrid,  he  remains  in  Paris.  Miss 
Griffith  knows  moreover,  that  Alphonse  is  in  love 
with  a  danseuse  at  the  Opera.  How  can  one  love 
legs  and  pirouettes?  We  have  noticed  that  my 
brother  is  present  at  the  performances  when  Tullia 
dances,  he  applauds  the  steps  of  this  creature  and 
leaves  immediately  afterwards.  I  think  that  two 
daughters  in  one  house  would  make  more  ravages 
there  than  a  pestilence.  As  to  my  second  brother, 
he  is  with  his  regiment,  I  have  not  yet  seen  him. 
This  is  how  I  am  destined  to  be  the  Antigone  of  an 
Ambassador  of  His  Majesty.  Perhaps  I  shall  be 
married  in  Spain,  and  perhaps  my  father's  idea  is 
to  marry  me  there  without  a  dot,  absolutely  as  you 
have  been  married  to  the  remnant  of  the  old  Guard 
of  Honor.  My  father  proposed  to  me  to  follow  him 
and  offered  me  his  teacher  of  Spanish. 

"You  wish,"  I  said  to  him,  "to  have  me  make 
some  marriages  in  Spain?" 

For  all  reply  he  honored  me  with  a  shrewd  look. 
He  has  amused  himself  for  the  last  few  days  with 
tormenting  me  at  dejeuner,  he  studies  me  and  I  dis- 
simulate ;  thus  I  have,  as  father  and  as  ambassador, 
in  petto,  cruelly  mystified  him.  Did  he  not  take  me 
for  a  silly?  He  asked  me  what  1  thought  of  such  a 
young  man  and  of  certain  demoiselles  whom  1  have 
met  in  several  houses.  1  replied  to  him  by  the  most 
stupid  discussion  on  the  color  of  the  hair,  on  the 
difference  of  the  figures,  on  the  physiognomy  of  the 


60  MEMOIRS  OF 

young  persons.  My  father  seemed  disappointed  to 
find  me  so  vacant,  he  blamed  himself  inwardly  for 
having  interrogated  me. 

"However,  mon p&re,"  I  added,  "I  do  not  say 
what  I  really  think, — my  mother  has  recently  made 
me  fear  to  appear  unseemly  in  speaking  of  my  im- 
pressions." 

"In  your  own  family,  you  can  express  yourself 
without  fear,"  replied  my  mother. 

"Well,"  1  resumed,  "up  to  the  present,  young 
people  have  appeared  to  me  to  be  more  interested 
than  interesting,  more  occupied  with  themselves 
than  with  us;  but  they  have,  in  fact,  very  little 
dissimulation, — they  put  off  in  a  moment  the  ex- 
pression which  they  have  assumed  to  speak  to  us, 
thinking  doubtless  that  we  do  not  know  how  to  use 
our  eyes.  The  man  who  speaks  to  us  is  the  lover, 
the  man  who  no  longer  speaks  to  us  is  the  husband. 
As  to  the  young  women,  they  are  so  false  that  it  is 
impossible  to  judge  of  their  character  otherwise 
than  by  that  of  their  dance,  it  is  only  their  figure 
and  their  movements  which  do  not  lie.  I  have 
above  all  been  frightened  at  the  brutality  of  the  fine 
world.  When  it  is  a  question  of  supper,  there  takes 
place — due  allowance  being  made  for  proportion — 
things  which  give  me  an  idea  of  the  popular  out- 
bursts. Politeness  conceals  only  very  imperfectly 
the  general  egotism.  I  imagined  to  myself  the 
world  as  very  different.  Women  in  it  are  counted 
for  very  little,  and  perhaps  this  is  a  remnant  of  the 
doctrines  of  Bonaparte." 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  6 1 

"Armande  is  making  astonishing  progress,"  said 
my  mother. 

"Ma  mire,  do  you  think  that  I  am  always  going 
to  ask  if  Madame  de  Stael  is  dead?" 

My  father  smiled  and  rose. 

Saturday. 

My  dear,  I  have  not  told  you  all.  This  is  what  I 
keep  from  you.  Of  that  love  which  we  imagined 
should  be  profoundly  hidden  I  have  not  seen  any 
sign  anywhere.  I  have  indeed  surprised  some  looks 
rapidly  exchanged  in  the  salons;  but  what  pale 
ones!  Our  love,  that  world  of  marvels,  of  beauti- 
ful dreams,  of  delicious  realities,  and  of  sorrows 
answering  each  other,  those  smiles  which  light  up 
all  nature,  those  words  which  ravish,  that  happi- 
ness always  given,  always  received,  those  sad- 
nesses caused  by  separation  and  those  joys  so 
prodigally  given  by  the  presence  of  the  beloved 
one! — of  all  that,  nothing.  Where  do  all  these 
splendid  flowers  of  the  soul  have  birth?  Who  lies? 
we  or  the  world?  I  have  already  seen  youths, 
men  by  hundreds,  and  not  one  of  them  has  caused 
me  the  least  emotion;  they  might  have  testified 
to  me  their  admiration  and  devotion,  they  might 
have  fought  for  me,  I  would  have  surveyed  it  all 
with  an  unmoved  eye.  Love,  my  dear,  relates 
to  a  phenomenon  so  rare,  that  one  can  live  through 
life  without  encountering  the  being  to  whom  nature 
has  imparted  the  power  of  rendering  us  happy. 
This  reflection  causes  us  to  shudder,  for,  if  this 


62  MEMOIRS  OF 

being    should    be    encountered    late,    what   would 
you  say  ? 

Within  the  last  few  days,  I  have  begun  to  be  ter- 
rified at  our  destiny,  to  understand  why  so  many 
women  have  sad  countenances  under  the  layer  of 
vermilion  which  is  given  them- by  the  false  joys  of 
a  festival.  Marriages  are  made  by  chance,  and 
you  have  been  married  in  this  manner.  Storms  of 
thoughts  have  passed  through  my  soul.  To  be 
loved  always  in  the  same  manner  and  yet  differ- 
ently, to  be  loved  as  much  after  ten  years  of  happi- 
ness as  on  the  first  day!  Such  a  love  is  worth 
years :  it  is  necessary  that  it  should  be  desired  for 
a  very  long  time,  that  it  should  have  awakened 
many  curiosities  and  satisfied  them,  that  it  should 
have  excited  many  sympathies  and  responded  to 
them.  Are  there  then  laws  for  the  creations  of  the 
heart,  as  for  those  of  the  visible  creations  of  nature  ? 
Can  gaiety  maintain  itself?  In  what  proportion 
should  love  mingle  its  tears  and  its  pleasures  ?  The 
cold  combinations  of  the  funereal,  equal,  permanent 
life  of  the  convent  formerly  seemed  to  me  possible; 
while  the  richness,  the  magnificence,  the  tears,  the 
delights,  the  fetes,  the  joys,  the  pleasures  of  equal 
love  partaken,  permitted,  seemed  to  me  impossible.  I 
do  not  see  any  place  in  this  city  for  the  sweetnesses  of 
love,  for  those  holy  walks  under  the  elm,  in  the 
light  of  the  full  moon,  when  it  glitters  on  the  waters 
and  when  one  resists  prayers.  Rich,  young,  and 
beautiful,  I  have  only  to  love,  love  might  become 
my  whole  life,  my  sole  occupation:  well,  for  three 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  63 

months  that  I  have  been  coming  and  going  with  an 
impatient  curiosity,  I  have  encountered  nothing 
among  these  brilliant,  eager,  sprightly  looks.  No 
voice  has  moved  me,  no  regard  has  illuminated  for  me 
this  world.  Music  only  has  filled  my  soul,  it  alone 
has  been  for  me  that  which  our  friendship  is.  I 
have  remained  sometimes  for  an  hour  at  my  window 
in  the  night,  looking  at  the  garden,  calling  up 
events,  demanding  of  them  the  unknown  source 
from  which  they  came.  I  have  sometimes  gone  out 
in  a  carriage  to  drive,  getting  out  to  walk  in  the 
Champs-Elysees  in  imagining  that  a  man,  that  he 
who  would  re-awaken  my  torpid  soul,  would  arrive, 
would  follow  me,  would  look  at  me;  but  on  those 
days  I  have  seen  the  street  jugglers,  the  ginger- 
bread sellers  and  the  mountebanks,  passers-by  hur- 
rying to  attend  to  their  affairs,  or  lovers  who 
shunned  all  looks,  and  I  was  tempted  to  stop  them 
and  to  say  to  them :  "You  who  are  happy,  tell  me 
what  is  love?"  But  I  restrained  these  foolish 
thoughts,  I  got  into  the  carriage  again  and  I  prom- 
ised myself  to  remain  an  old  maid.  Love  is  cer- 
tainly an  incarnation,  and  how  many  conditions 
does  it  not  require  in  order  that  it  should  take 
place!  We  are  not  certain  of  always  being  in 
accord  with  ourselves,  what  would  it  be  with  two  ? 
God  alone  can  solve  this  problem.  I  commence  to 
think  that  I  shall  return  to  the  convent  If  I  re- 
main in  the  world,  I  shall  do  things  which  will 
resemble  stupidities,  for  it  is  impossible  for  me  to 
accept  that  which  I  see.  Everything  wounds  my 


64  MEMOIRS  OF 

delicacies,  the  manners  and  customs  of  my  soul,  or 
my  secret  thoughts.  Ah !  my  mother  is  the  most 
happy  woman  in  the  world,  she  is  adored  by  her 
great  little  Canalis.  My  angel,  I  am  assailed  by 
horrible  desires  to  know  what  passes  between  my 
mother  and  this  young  man.  Griffith  has  had,  she 
says,  all  these  thoughts;  she  has  had  a  strong 
desire  to  leap  at  the  faces  of  the  women  whom  she 
saw  happy ;  she  has  disparaged  them,  rent  them. 
According  to  her,  virtue  consists  in  burying  all 
these  thoughts  of  savageries  in  the  bottom  of  the 
heart.  What  is  then  the  bottom  of  the  heart  ?  A 
depository  of  everything  that  we  have  of  evil.  I 
am  very  much  humiliated  not  to  have  found  an 
adorer.  I  am  a  young  girl  to  be  married,  but  I  have 
brothers,  a  family,  parents  who  are  very  sensitive. 
Ah !  if  that  is  the  reason  of  the  restraint  of  the  men, 
they  are  very  cowardly.  The  r61e  of  Chimene,  in 
Le  Cid,  and  that  of  the  Cid  filled  me  with  delight. 
What  an  admirable  theatre-piece !  Come,  farewell. 

VIII 
THE  SAME  TO  THE  SAME 

January. 

We  have  for  instructor  a  poor  refugee  forced  to 
conceal  himself  in  consequence  of  his  participation 
in  the  Revolution  which  the  Duke  d'Angouleme 
suppressed ;  a  triumph  to  which  we  were  indebted 
for  some  brilliant  festivals.  Although  liberal  and 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  65 

doubtless  bourgeois,  this  man  interested  me:  I 
imagined  that  he  had  been  condemned  to  death.  I 
made  him  talk  to  discover  his  secret,  but  he  is  of 
Castilian  taciturnity,  proud  as  if  he  were  Gonzalva 
of  Cordova,  and,  nevertheless,  of  an  angelic  gentle- 
ness and  patience ;  his  pride  is  not  displayed  like 
that  of  Miss  Griffith,  it  is  all  inward;  he  causes  that 
which  is  due  him  to  be  rendered  him  by  fulfilling 
his  duties  to  us,  and  keeps  us  at  a  distance  from  him 
by  the  respect  which  he  testifies  to  us.  My  father 
pretends  that  there  is  a  good  deal  of  the  grand 
seigneur  in  the  Sieur  Henarez,  whom  he  calls,  be- 
tween ourselves,  Don  Henarez  by  way  of  jest 
When  I  allowed  myself  to  address  him  thus,  a  few 
days  ago,  this  man  lifted  to  me  his  eyes,  which  he 
usually  keeps  lowered,  and  launched  at  me  two 
glances  which  amazed  me;  my  dear,  he  has  cer- 
tainly the  finest  eyes  in  the  world.  I  asked  him 
if  I  had  vexed  him  in  any  way,  and  he  said  to 
me  then  in  his  sublime  and  grandiose  Spanish 
tongue : 

"Mademoiselle,  I  come  here  only  to  teach  you 
Spanish." 

I  felt  myself  humiliated,  I  blushed,  I  was  about 
to  reply  to  him  by  some  fine  impertinence,  when  I 
remembered  what  our  dear  mother  in  God  had  said 
to  us,  and  I  then  replied  to  him : 

"If  you  should  have  to  correct  me  in  anything 
whatever,  I  should  be  obliged  to  you." 

He  was  moved,  the  blood  colored  his  olive  skin, 
he  answered  me  in  a  voice  that  trembled  slightly: 
5 


66  MEMOIRS  OF 

"Religion  should  teach  you  better  than  I  should 
be  able  to,  to  respect  great  misfortunes.  If  I  were 
a  Don  in  Spain,  and  had  lost  everything  at  the 
triumph  of  Ferdinand  VII.,  your  jest  would  be  a 
cruelty;  but,  if  I  am  only  a  poor  teacher  of  lan- 
guages, is  it  not  an  atrocious  mockery  ?  Neither  is 
worthy  of  a  noble  young  girl." 

I  took  his  hand  saying  to  him : 

"I  will  invoke  also  religion  to  pray  you  to  forget 
my  wrong." 

He  lowered  his  head,  opened  my  Don  Quixote 
and  sat  down.  This  little  incident  caused  me  more 
emotion  than  all  the  compliments,  the  looks  and  the 
phrases  which  I  have  received  during  the  evening 
in  which  I  have  been  the  most  courted.  During  the 
lesson,!  looked  attentively  at  this  man,  who  allowed 
himself  to  be  examined  without  knowing  it:  he 
never  lifts  his  eyes  to  me.  I  discovered  that  our 
instructor,  whom  we  supposed  to  be  forty  years  old, 
was  young ;  he  cannot  be  more  than  twenty-six  or 
twenty-eight.  My  governess,  to  whom  I  abandoned 
him,  caused  me  to  remark  the  beauty  of  his  black 
hair  and  that  of  his  teeth,  which  are  like  pearls. 
As  to  his  eyes,  they  are  at  once  of  velvet  and  of 
fire.  That  is  all,  he  is  for  the  rest  little  and  ugly. 
The  Spaniards  have  been  described  to  us  as  not 
very  clean;  but  he  is  extremely  well  cared  for,  his 
hands  are  whiter  than  his  face;  his  back  is  slightly 
stooped ;  his  head  is  enormous  and  of  an  odd  shape ; 
his  ugliness,  sufficiently  spiritual  moreover,  is 
aggravated  by  the  marks  of  the  small-pox  which 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  67 

have  pitted  his  visage ;  his  forehead  is  very  promi- 
nent, his  eyebrows  join  and  are  too  heavy,  they 
give  him  a  hard  appearance  which  repels  sympathy. 
He  has  the  grim  and  unhealthy  aspect  which  dis- 
tinguishes the  children  that  are  not  destined  to 
live  and  who  owe  their  lives  only  to  infinite  care, 
like  sister  Martha.  In  short,  as  my  father  says, 
he  has  the  mask  somewhat  softened  of  Cardinal 
Ximenes.  My  father  does  not  like  him,  he  feels 
constrained  with  him.  The  manners  of  our  in- 
structor have  a  natural  dignity  which  seems  to  dis- 
quiet the  dear  duke ;  he  cannot  suffer  superiority 
in  any  form  near  him.  As  soon  as  my  father 
knows  Spanish,  we  will  set  out  for  Madrid.  Two 
days  after  the  lesson  which  I  had  received,  when 
Henarez  returned,  I  said  to  him  to  indicate  to  him  a 
sort  of  gratitude : 

"I  do  not  doubt  that  you  have'  left  Spain  in  con- 
sequence of  political  events;  if  my  father  is  sent 
there,  as  it  is  said,  we  shall  be  in  the  way  of  ren- 
dering you  some  service  and  of  obtaining  your  par- 
don, in  case  you  have  been  condemned." 

"It  is  in  the  power  of  no  one  to  oblige  me,"  he 
replied. 

"How,  Monsieur,"  I  said  to  him,  "is  it  because 
you  do  not  wish  to  accept  any  protection,  or  because 
it  is  impossible?" 

"Both,"  he  said  bowing,  and  with  an  accent 
which  reduced  me  to  silence. 

My  father's  blood  boiled  in  my  veins.  This 
haughtiness  revolted  me,  and  I  left  the  Sieur  Henarez 


68  MEMOIRS  OF 

alone.  However,  my  dear,  there  is  something  fine 
in  not  wishing  to  receive  anything  from  others. 
"He  will  not  accept  even  our  friendship,"  I  thought 
in  conjugating  a  verb.  There  I  stopped,  and  I  re- 
peated to  him  the  thought  which  occurred  to  me,  but 
in  Spanish.  The  Henarez  replied  to  me  very  cour- 
teously that  the  feelings  required  an  equality  which 
was  not  to  be  found  in  this  case,  and  that  therefore 
this  question  was  useless. 

"Do  you  understand  equality  as  relative  to  the 
reciprocity  of  feelings  or  to  the  difference  of  ranks  ?" 
I  asked  him  to  endeavor  to  draw  him  out  of  his 
gravity,  which  made  me  impatient. 

He  lifted  once  more  his  redoubtable  eyes  and  I 
lowered  mine.  Dear,  this  man  is  an  insolvable 
enigma.  He  seemed  to  ask  me  if  my  words  were 
a  declaration :  there  was  in  his  look  a  happiness,  a 
pride,  an  anguish  of  uncertainty  which  constricted 
my  heart  I  understood  that  these  coquetries, 
which  are  in  France  esteemed  at  their  just  value, 
assume  a  dangerous  signification  with  a  Spaniard, 
and  I  withdrew  a  little  stupidly  into  my  shell. 
When  the  lesson  was  finished,  he  saluted  me  throw- 
ing upon  me  a  look  full  of  humble  prayers,  and 
which  said:  "Do  not  amuse  yourself  with  an  unfor- 
tunate." This  sudden  contrast  with  his  grave  and 
dignified  manners  made  a  lively  impression  upon 
me.  Is  it  not  horrible  to  think  and  to  say  ?  it  seems 
to  me  that  there  are  treasures  of  affection  in  this 
man. 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  69 

IX 

MADAME    DE    L'ESTORADE    TO    MADEMOISELLE  DE 
CHAULIEU 

December. 

Everything  is  said  and  everything  is  done,  my 
dear  child,  it  is  Madame  de  1'Estorade  who  writes 
to  you ;  but  there  is  nothing  changed  between  us, 
there  is  only  one  young  girl  the  less.  Do  not  be 
disturbed,  I  thought  over  my  consent,  and  I  did  not 
give  it  foolishly.  My  life  is  now  determined.  The 
certainty  of  proceeding  in  a  designated  road  accords 
equally  well  with  my  spirit  and  my  character.  A 
great  moral  force  has  corrected  for  all  time  that 
which  we  call  the  chances  of  life.  We  have  grounds 
to  make  valuable,  a  dwelling  to  ornament,  to  em- 
bellish; I  have  an  interior  to  conduct  and  to  render 
pleasant,  a  man  to  reconcile  with  life.  I  shall  have 
without  doubt  a  family  to  take  care  of,  children  to 
bring  up.  What  do  you  desire!  ordinary  life  could 
not  be  anything  great  or  excessive.  Certainly,  the 
immense  desires  which  expand  the  soul  and  the 
mind  do  not  enter  into  these  combinations,  appar- 
ently at  least  Who  prevents  me  from  sending  to 
drift  on  the  sea  of  the  infinite  those  embarkations 
which  we  once  launched  on  it?  Nevertheless,  do 
not  think  that  the  humble  things  to  which  I  devote 
myself  are  exempt  from  passion.  The  task  of 
bringing  to  believe  in  happiness  a  poor  man  who 
has  been  the  sport  of  the  tempest  is  a  noble  work, 


70  MEMOIRS  OF 

and  will  be  sufficient  to  modify  the  monotony  of  my 
existence.  I  have  not  been  able  to  see  that  I  should 
give  way  to  sorrow,  and  I  have  seen  good  to  be 
done.  Between  ourselves,  I  do  not  love  Louis  de 
PEstorade  with  that  love  which  makes  the  heart 
beat  when  one  hears  a  step,  which  moves  us  pro- 
foundly at  the  least  sound  of  a  voice,  or  when  an 
ardent  regard  envelops  us;  but  he  does  not  in  the 
least  displease  me,  nevertheless.  What" shall  I  do, 
you  would  say  to  me,  with  that  instinct  for  sublime 
things,  with  those  great  thoughts  which  united  us 
and  which  are  in  us  ?  Yes,  this  is  what  has  preoc- 
cupied me.  Well,  is  it  not  a  great  thing  to  hide 
them,  to  employ  them,  unknown  to  all,  for  the  hap- 
piness of  a  family,  to  make  of  them  the  means  of 
the  happiness  of  beings  who  are  confided  to  us  and 
to  whom  we  belong?  The  season  during  which 
these  faculties  are  at  their  highest  development  is 
very  limited  with  women,  it  will  soon  be  passed; 
and,  if  my  life  has  not  been  great,  it  will  have  been 
calm,  united  and  without  vicissitudes.  We  are 
born  with  certain  endowments,  we  can  choose  be- 
tween love  and  maternity.  Well,  I  have  chosen, 
— I  will  make  my  divinities  of  my  children  and  my 
Eldorado  of  this  corner  of  the  earth.  This  is  all  I 
can  say  to  you  to-day.  I  thank  you  for  all  the 
things  which  you  have  sent  me.  Look  over  my 
orders,  the  list  of  which  is  added  to  this  letter.  I 
wish  to  live  in  an  atmosphere  of  luxury  and  of  ele- 
gance, and  to  have  of  the  province  only  that  which  it 
can  offer  of  the  delightful.  In  remaining  in  solitude, 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  71 

a  woman  can  never  become  provincial,  she  remains 
herself.  I  rely  greatly  on  your  devotion  to  keep 
me  informed  of  all  the  things  of  the  world.  In  his 
enthusiasm,  my  father-in-law  refuses  me  nothing 
and  turns  his  house  upside  down.  We  are  going  to 
have  workmen  from  Paris  and  we  will  modernize 
everything. 


MADEMOISELLE     DE     CHAULIEU     TO     MADAME     DE 
L'ESTORADE 

January. 

O  Renee,  you  have  saddened  me  for  several 
days!  So,  that  delicious  body,  that  proud  and 
handsome  countenance,  those  manners  so  naturally 
elegant,  that  soul  full  of  precious  gifts,  those  eyes 
in  which  the  soul  quenches  its  ;thirst  as  at  a  living 
source  of  love,  that  heart  filled  with  exquisite  deli- 
cacies, that  wide  spirit,  all  those  so  rare  faculties, 
those  products  of  nature  and  of  our  mutual  educa- 
tion, those  treasures  from  which  should  issue  for 
passion  and  for  desire  unique  riches,  poems,  hours 
which  should  have  been  worth  years,  pleasures  to 
render  a  man  the  slave  of  a  single  graceful  move- 
ment,— all  that  is  to  be  lost  in  the  tediousness  of  a 
common  and  vulgar  marriage,  to  be  effaced  in  the 
emptiness  of  a  life  which  will  become  to  you  weari- 
some! I  hate  in  advance  the  children  which  you 
will  have;  they  will  be  badly  constituted.  Every- 
thing is  foreseen  in  your  life:  you  will  have  neither 


72  MEMOIRS  OF 

to  hope,  nor  to  fear,  nor  to  suffer.  And  if  you 
should  encounter,  in  some  day  of  splendor,  a  being 
who  will  awaken  you  from  a  slumber  to  which  you 
are  going  to  give  yourself  up  ? — Ah !  I  have  shud- 
dered at  this  thought  At  least,  you  have  a  friend. 
You  will  be  without  doubt  the  spirit  of  this  valley, 
you  will  initiate  yourself  into  all  its  beauties,  you 
will  live  with  this  nature,  you  will  be  penetrated 
with  the  grandeur  of  all  things,  with  the  slowness 
with  which  vegetation  develops,  with  the  rapidity 
with  which  thought  travels;  and,  when  you  look  at 
your  smiling  flowers,  you  will  return  into  yourself. 
Then,  when  you  walk  with  your  husband  before 
you  and  your  children  behind,  the  one  screaming, 
murmuring,  playing,  the  other  mute  and  satisfied,  I 
know  in  advance  what  you  will  write  to  me.  Your 
valley  which  intoxicates  and  its  hills,  arid  or  shaded 
with  handsome  trees,  your  so  curious  Provencal 
meadow,  its  clear  waters  divided  into  streamlets, 
the  different  tints  of  the  light, — all  this  infinitude, 
varied  by  God  and  surrounding  you,  will  recall  to 
you  the  infinite  monotony  of  your  own  heart  But 
at  least  I  shall  be  there,  my  Renee,  and  you  will 
find  a  friend  whose  heart  will  never  be  affected  by 
the  least  social  pettiness,  a  heart  all  your  own. 


Monday. 

My  dear,  my  Spaniard  is  of  an  admirable  melan- 
choly,— there  is  in  him  an  unspeakable  calmness, 
austerity,  worthiness,  earnestness  which  interest 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  73 

me  to  the  last  degree.  This  constant  solemnity  and 
the  silence  which  covers  this  man  have  in  them 
something  provocative  for  the  soul.  He  is  mute 
and  superb  like  a  fallen  king.  We  occupy  our- 
selves greatly  with  him,  Griffith  and  I,  as  with  an 
enigma.  What  an  absurdity !  a  teacher  of  languages 
has  the  triumph  of  attracting  more  of  my  attention 
than  any  other  man  has  done,  I  who  have  now 
passed  in  review  all  the  sons  of  noble  families,  all 
the  attaches  of  embassy  and  the  ambassadors,  the 
generals  and  the  sub-lieutenants,  the  peers  of 
France,  their  sons  and  their  nephews,  the  Court  and 
the  city.  The  coldness  of  this  man  is  irritating. 
The  most  profound  pride  fills  the  desert  which  he 
endeavors  to  put  and  does  put  between  us ;  in  short, 
he  envelops  himself  in  obscurity.  It  is  he  who 
has  the  coquetry  and  it  is  I  who  have  the  enter- 
prise. This  strangeness  amuses  me  all  the  more 
that  all  this  is  without  consequence.  What  is  a 
man,  a  Spaniard  and  a  teacher  of  languages?  I  do 
not  feel  within  me  the  least  respect  for  any  man 
whatever,  were  he  a  king.  I  find  that  we  are  worth 
more  than  all  the  men,  even  the  most  justly  illus- 
trious. Oh!  howl  would  have  dominated  Napo- 
leon! how  I  would  have  made  him  feel,  if  he  had 
loved  me,  that  he  was  at  my  mercy! 

Yesterday  I  launched  an  epigram  which  must 
have  touched  Master  Henarez  to  the  quick ;  he  made 
no  reply,  he  had  finished  his  lesson,  he  took  his  hat 
and  saluted,  giving  me  a  look  which  made  me  think 
that  he  will  never  return.  This  seems  to  me  a 


74  MEMOIRS  OF 

great  deal, — there  would  be  something  sinister  in 
recommencing  the  Nouvelle  Heloise  of  Jean- Jacques 
Rousseau,  which  I  have  just  read  and  which  causes 
me  to  hate  all  love.  Discussing  and  phrasing  love 
seems  to  me  insupportable.  Clarissa  is  also  too 
much  contented  when  she  has  written  her  long  little 
letter;  but  Richardson's  book  explains  moreover, 
admirably,  my  father  tells  me,  the  English  charac- 
ter. That  of  Rousseau  has  upon  me  the  effect  of  an 
epistolary  philosophical  sermon. 

Love  is,  I  believe,  a  poem  entirely  personal. 
There  is  nothing  that  is  not  at  once  both  false  and 
true  in  all  that  the  authors  write  for  us  about  it. 
Verily,  my  pretty  dear,  as  you  can  only  tell  me  of 
conjugal  love,  I  think,  in  the  well  understood  in- 
terests of  our  double  existence,  it  is  necessary  that 
I  should  remain  single,  and  that  I  should  have  some 
fine  passion,  so  that  we  may  get  to  know  life  well. 
Relate  to  me  very  exactly  everything  that  happens 
to  you,  especially  in  the  first  days,  with  that  animal 
which  I  call  a  husband.  I  promise  you  the  same 
exactitude,  if  ever  I  am  loved.  Adieu,  poor  swal- 
lowed-up  dear. 

XI 

MADAME    DE    L'ESTORADE    TO    MADEMOISELLE    DE 
CHAULIEU 

La  Crampade. 

Your  Spaniard  and  you,  you  make  me  shudder, 
my  dear  mignonne.  I  write  you  these  few  lines  to 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  75 

entreat  you  to  send  him  away.  Everything  that 
you  say  to  me  of  him  relates  to  the  most  dangerous 
character  of  those  of  this  class  who,  not  having  any- 
thing to  lose,  risk  everything.  This  man  should  not 
be  your  lover  and  cannot  be  your  husband.  I  will 
write  you  more  in  detail  on  the  secret  events  of  my 
marriage,  but  when  I  shall  no  longer  have  at  heart 
the  uneasiness  which  your  last  letter  has  occa- 
sioned me. 

XII 

MADEMOISELLE     DE     CHAULIEU    TO     MADAME     DE 
L'ESTORADE 

February. 

My  beautiful  lamb,  this  morning  at  nine  o'clock, 
my  father  was  announced  in  my  apartment:  I  was 
up  and  dressed.  I  found  him  seated  gravely  at  the 
chimney-corner,  in  my  salon,  thoughtful  beyond 
his  usual  custom ;  he  indicated  to  me  the  sofa  oppo- 
site to  him,  I  understood  him,  and  took  my  place  on  it 
with  a  gravity  which  mimicked  his  own  so  well  that 
he  commenced  to  smile,  but  a  smile  tinged  with  a 
grave  sadness. 

"You  are  at  least  as  clever  as  your  grandmother," 
he  said  to  me. 

"Come,  monptre,  do  not  play  the  courtier  here," 
I  replied  to  him;  "you  have  something  to  ask  me!" 

He  rose  in  great  agitation,  and  talked  to  me  for 
half  an  hour.  This  conversation,  my  dear,  de- 
serves to  be  preserved.  As  soon  as  he  had  gone,  I 


76  MEMOIRS  OF 

placed  myself  at  my  table  endeavoring  to  set  down 
his  words.  This  is  the  first  time  that  I  had  known 
my  father  to  express  himself  fully.  He  commenced 
by  flattering  me,  in  which  he  was  not  altogether  ill- 
advised;  I  should  at  least  be  grateful  to  him  for 
having  divined  me  and  appreciated  me. 

"Armande,"  he  said  to  me,  "you  have  curiously 
deceived  me  and  agreeably  surprised  me.  When 
you  arrived  from  the  convent,  I  took  you  for  a  young 
girl  like  all  the  other  young  girls,  without  much 
judgment,  ignorant,  who  can  be  bought  off  cheaply 
with  gewgaws,  finery,  and  who  reflect  but  little." 
"Thank  you,  monpere,  for  the  young  girls." 
"Oh!  it  is  no  longer  a  question  of  young  girls!" 
said  he,  with  the  involuntary  gesture  of  a  man  of 
public  affairs.  "You  have  a  mind  of  an  incredible 
breadth,  you  judge  everything  by  its  intrinsic  worth, 
your  acuteness  is  extreme;  you  are  very  malicious, 
— you  are  believed  to  have  seen  nothing  when  in 
fact  you  have  your  eyes  on  the  cause  of  the  effects 
which  others  are  examining.  You  are  a  minister 
in  petticoats ;  there  is  no  one  but  you  who  could 
understand  me  here,  there  is  then  only  yourself  to 
employ  against  you  if  it  were  wished  to  obtain  some 
sacrifice  from  you.  Therefore  I  have  come  to  ex- 
plain myself  frankly  concerning  the  designs  which 
I  have  formed  and  in  which  I  persist.  In  order  to 
cause  you  to  adopt  them  I  must  demonstrate  to  you 
that  they  require  elevated  sentiments.  I  am  there- 
fore obliged  to  enter  into  political  considerations  of 
the  highest  interest  for  the  kingdom,  and  which 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  77 

might  weary  any  other  person  than  you.  After 
having  heard  me,  you  will  have  a  long  time  for  re- 
flection; I  will  give  you  six  months  if  necessary. 
You  are  your  own  absolute  mistress;  and,  if  you 
refuse  the  sacrifices  which  I  ask  of  you,  I  will  sub- 
mit to  your  refusal  without  tormenting  you  any 
more." 

At  this  exordium,  my  lamb,  I  became  really  seri- 
ous, and  I  said  to  him  : 

"Speak,  monplre." 

Well,  here  is  what  the  statesman  pronounced: 

"My  child,  France  is  in  a  precarious  situation 
which  is  known  only  to  the  king  and  some  lofty 
minds ;  but  the  king  is  a  head  without  arms ;  and 
the  great  minds  which  are  in  the  secret  of  the  dan- 
ger have  no  authority  over  the  men  to  be  employed 
in  order  to  arrive  at  happy  results.  These  men, 
vomited  up  by  the  popular  elections,  are  not  willing 
to  serve  as  instruments.  However  remarkable  they 
may  be,  they  continue  the  work  of  social  destruc- 
tion, instead  of  aiding  us  to  re-establish  the  edifice. 
In  two  words,  there  are  now  only  two  parties, — that 
of  Marius  and  that  of  Sylla;  I  am  for  Sylla  against 
Marius.  This  is  our  situation  broadly.  As  to  de- 
tails, the  Revolution  continues,  it  is  implanted  in 
the  law,  it  is  written  on  the  soil,  it  is  always  in 
men's  minds:  it  is  so  much  the  more  formidable 
that  it  appears  to  be  vanquished  to  the  greater  num- 
ber of  those  counselors  of  the  throne  who  see  in  it 
neither  soldiers  nor  treasures.  The  king  has  a 
great  mind,  he  sees  clearly  here;  but,  from  day  to 


78  MEMOIRS  OF 

day  more  and  more  under  the  influence  of  his 
brother's  followers,  who  wish  to  go  too  fast,  he  has 
not  two  years  to  live,  and  this  dying  man  arranges 
his  draperies  to  die  peacefully.  Do  you  know,  my 
child,  what  are  the  most  destructive  effects  of  the 
Revolution?  You  would  never  suspect  them.  In 
cutting  off  the  head  of  Louis  XVI.,  the  Revolution 
has  struck  off  all  the  heads  of  fathers  of  families. 
There  is  no  longer  any  family  to-day,  there  is  no 
longer  anything  but  individuals.  In  wishing  to  be- 
come a  nation,  the  French  have  renounced  being  an 
Empire.  In  proclaiming  the  equality  of  rights  to 
the  paternal  inheritance,  they  have  killed  the  fam- 
ily spirit,  they  have  created  the  exchequer.  But 
they  have  provided  for  the  feebleness  of  superior- 
ities and  the  blind  force  of  the  masses,  for  the 
extinction  of  the  arts,  the  reign  of  personal  interest 
and  opened  the  pathways  to  conquest  We  are  be- 
tween two  systems :  either  to  constitute  the  State 
by  the  family,  or  to  constitute  it  by  personal  inter- 
est,— democracy  or  aristocracy,  discussion  or  obedi- 
ence, Catholicism  or  religious  indifference,  that  is 
the  question  in  a  few  words.  I  am  of  the  small 
number  of  those  who  wish  to  resist  that  which  is 
called  the  people,  in  their  own  interest  be  it  under- 
stood. It  is  no  longer  a  question  of  feudal  rights, 
as  the  fools  are  told,  and  of  gentility;  it  is  a  ques- 
tion of  the  State,  it  is  a  question  of  the  life  of 
France.  Every  country  which  does  not  estab- 
lish its  base  on  paternal  power  is  without  an 
assured  existence.  There  commences  the  ladder  of 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  79 

responsibilities,  and  the  subordination,  which  as- 
cends even  to  the  king.  The  king,  he  is  all  of  us! 
To  die  for  the  king,  that  is  to  die  for  one's  self,  for 
one's  family,  which  does  not  die  any  more  surely 
than  does  the  kingdom.  Each  animal  has  its  own 
instinct;  that  of  man  is  the  family  spirit.  A  nation 
is  strong  when  it  is  composed  of  rich  families,  all 
the  members  of  which  are  interested  in  the  defence 
of  the  common  treasure, — treasure  of  money,  of 
glory,  of  privileges,  of  enjoyments;  it  is  weak  when 
it  is  composed  of  individuals  not  bound  together,  to 
whom  it  matters  but  little  whether  they  obey  seven 
men  or  one  only,  a  Russian  or  a  Corsican,  provided 
that  each  individual  keeps  his  own  field;  and  this 
unhappy  egotist  does  not  see  that  some  day  this 
field  will  be  taken  from  him.  We  are  on  the  way 
to  a  horrible  state  of  affairs,  in  case  of  failure. 
There  will  no  longer  be  any  but  penal  or  fiscal  laws, 
the  purse  or  the  life.  The  most  generous  country 
on  the  earth  will  no  longer  be  conducted  by  senti- 
ments. They  should  have  been  developed  there, 
nursed  for  incurable  wounds.  In  the  first  place, 
there  will  be  a  universal  jealousy:  the  superior 
classes  will  be  hopelessly  confounded,  the  equality 
of  wishes  will  be  taken  for  the  equality  of  capacity; 
the  real  superiorities  recognized,  authenticated,  will 
be  invaded  by  the  masses  of  the  bourgeoisie.  A 
man  can  be  chosen  among  a  thousand;  nothing  can 
be  found  among  three  millions  of  similar  ambitions, 
clothed  with  the  same  livery,  that  of  mediocrity. 
This  triumphant  mass  will  not  perceive  that  it  will 


80  MEMOIRS  OF 

have  against  it  a  terrible  mass,  that  of  the  peasant 
owners, — twenty  millions  of  acres  of  land,  living, 
marching,  reasoning,  understanding  nothing,  always 
wishing  more,  barricading  everything,  disposing  of 
brutal  strength — " 

"But,"  said  I  interrupting  my  father,  "what  can 
I  do  for  the  State?  I  do  not  feel  the  slightest  dis- 
position to  become  the  family  Joan  of  Arc  and  to 
perish  at  the  stake  of  a  convent." 

"You  are  a  little  plague,"  said  my  father  to  me. 
"If  I  speak  seriously  to  you,  you  answer  me  by 
jests;  when  I  jest,  you  speak  to  me  as  if  you  were 
ambassador." 

"Love  lives  by  contrasts,"  I  said  to  him. 

And  he  laughed  till  the  tears  came  in  his  eyes. 

"You  will  think  about  what  I  have  explained  to 
you;  you  will  remark  how  much  there  is  of  confi- 
dence and  of  grandeur  in  speaking  to  you  as  I  have 
just  done,  and  perhaps  events  will  help  my  projects. 
I  know  that,  as  to  yourself,  these  projects  will  be 
injurious,  iniquitous;  therefore  I  ask  their  approval 
less  of  your  heart  and  of  your  imagination  than  of 
your  reason,  I  have  recognized  more  reason  and 
good  sense  in  you  than  I  have  seen  in  any  one  else 
whomsoever — " 

"You  flatter  yourself,"  I  said  to  himsmiling,"for 
I  am  indeed  your  daughter!" 

"In  short,"  he  resumed,  "I  could  not  be  inconsist- 
ent Who  wishes  the  end  wishes  the  means,  and 
we  owe  the  example  to  all.  Therefore,  you  are  not 
entitled  to  a  fortune  so  long  as  that  of  your  younger 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  8 1 

brother  is  not  assured,  and  I  wish  to  employ  your 
entire  capital  in  constituting  a  majorat  for  him." 

"But,"  I  replied,  "you  do  not  forbid  me  to  live 
as  I  please  and  to  be  happy  when  I  pass  over  my 
fortune  to  you?" 

"Ah!  provided,"  he  answered,  "that  life  as  you 
understand  it  should  reflect  in  no  way  upon  the 
honor,  the  consideration  and,  I  may  add,  the  glory  of 
your  family." 

"Come,"  I  cried,  "you  strip  me  very  promptly 
of  my  superior  reason." 

"We  will  not  find  in  France,"  he  said  with  bit- 
terness, "a  man  who  would  wish  for  wife  a  young 
girl  of  the  highest  nobility  without  dot  and  who 
would  acknowledge  her  to  be  herself  a  sufficient  for- 
tune. If  this  husband  should  be  encountered,  he 
will  belong  to  the  class  of  parvenu  bourgeois:  I  am, 
in  this  respect,  of  the  eleventh  century." 

"And  1  also,"  I  said  to  him.  "But  why  do  you 
make  me  despair  ?  are  there  not  some  old  peers  of 
France?" 

"You  are  well  advanced,  Louise,"  he  cried. 

Then  he  left  me  smiling  after  having  kissed  my 
hand. 

I  received  your  letter  this  very  morning,  and  it 
caused  me  to  think  precisely  of  that  abyss  in  which 
you  assume  that  I  might  fall.  It  seemed  that  a 
voice  cried  to  me  within  myself:  "You  will  fall 
in!"  I  have,  therefore,  taken  my  precaution. 
Henarez  dares  to  look  at  me,  my  dear,  and  his  eyes 
trouble  me,  they  produce  upon  me  a  sensation  which 
6 


82  MEMOIRS  OF 

I  can  only  compare  to  that  of  profound  terror.  This 
man  should  no  more  be  looked  at  than  should  a  toad; 
he  is  ugly  and  fascinating.  Here  are  now  two  days 
that  I  have  been  deliberating  with  myself  whether 
I  should  say  plainly  to  my  father  that  I  did  not  wish 
to  take  any  more  lessons,  and  cause  this  Henarez 
to  be  dismissed;  but,  after  my  virile  resolutions,  I 
felt  within  me  the  need  of  being  moved  by  the  hor- 
rible sensations  which  I  experienced  on  seeing  this 
man,  and  I  said:  "Just  once  more,  and  then  I  will 
speak."  My  dear,  his  voice  is  of  a  penetrating 
sweetness,  he  speaks  as  La  Fodor  sings.  His  man- 
ners are  simple  and  without  the  least  affectation. 
And  what  beautiful  teeth!  Just  now,  on  leaving 
me,  he  seemed  to  notice  how  much  he  interested  me, 
and  he  made  the  motion,  very  respectfully  more- 
over, of  taking  my  hand  to  kiss  it;  but  he  repressed 
it,  as  if  frightened  at  his  boldness  and  the  distance 
which  he  was  about  to  overleap.  Notwithstanding 
the  little  of  this  that  he  showed,  I  guessed  it;  I 
smiled,  for  nothing  is  more  provocative  of  tender- 
ness than  to  see  the  impulse  of  an  inferior  nature 
which  is  thrown  back  upon  itself.  There  is  so 
much  audacity  in  the  love  of  a  bourgeois  for  a  noble 
young  girl !  My  smile  encouraged  him,  the  poor 
man  looked  for  his  hat  without  seeing  it,  he  was 
not  able  to  find  it,  and  I  brought  it  to  him  gravely. 
His  eyes  were  moistened  by  restrained  tears. 
There  was  a  world  of  things  and  of  thoughts  in  that 
so  brief  moment  We  comprehended  each  other  so 
well  that  at  that  moment  I  offered  him  my  hand  to 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  83 

kiss.  Perhaps  this  was  to  say  to  him  that  love 
could  fill  up  the  space  which  separated  us.  Well,  I 
do  not  know  what  it  was  that  moved  me, — Griffith 
had  turned  her  back,  I  offered  to  him  proudly  my 
white  hand,  and  I  felt  the  fire  of  his  lips  tempered 
by  two  big  tears.  Ah !  my  angel,  I  remained  with- 
out strength  in  my  armchair,  thoughtful ;  I  was 
happy,  and  it  was  impossible  for  me  to  explain  how 
or  why.  That  which  I  felt,  it  is  poesy.  My 
abasement,  at  which  I  am  ashamed  at  this  hour, 
seemed  to  me  a  grandeur :  it  fascinated  me,  that  is 
my  excuse. 

Friday. 

This  man  is  really  very  fine.  His  words  are  ele- 
gant, his  mind  is  of  a  remarkable  superiority.  My 
dear,  he  is  as  strong  and  logical  as  Bossuet  while 
explaining  to  me  the  mechanism  not  only  of  the 
Spanish  language,  but  also  of  human  thought  and  of 
all  languages.  French  seems  to  be  his  maternal 
tongue.  When  I  expressed  to  him  my  surprise  at 
this  he  replied  that  he  had  been  in  France  when 
very  young  with  the  King  of  Spain,  at  Valencay. 
What  has  happened  in  this  soul  ?  He  is  no  longer 
the  same:  he  came  simply  dressed,  but  absolutely 
like  a  grand  seigneur  who  had  come  out  for  a  morn- 
ing walk.  His  mind  was  as  brilliant  as  a  beacon 
during  this  lesson:  he  displayed  all  his  eloquence. 
Like  a  weary  man  who  had  regained  his  strength, 
he  revealed  to  me  the  whole  of  a  soul  that  had  been 
carefully  hidden.  He  related  to  me  the  story  of  a 


84  MEMOIRS  OF 

poor  devil  of  a  valet  who  killed  himself  for  one  look 
of  a  queen  of  Spain. 

"He  could  only  die!"  I  said  to  him. 

This  reply  brought  joy  to  his  heart,  and  his  look 
veritably  terrified  me. 

That  evening  I  went  to  a  ball  at  the  house  of  the 
Duchesse  de  Lenoncourt;  the  Prince  de  Talleyrand 
was  there.  I  asked  him,  through  Monsieur  de  Van- 
denesse,  a  charming  young  man,  if  he  had  among 
his  guests  in  1809,  at  his  estate,  a  Henarez. 

"Henarez  is  the  Moorish  name  of  the  De  Soria 
family,  who  are,  it  is  said,  Abencerrages  converted 
to  Christianity.  The  old  duke  and  his  two  sons 
accompanied  the  king.  The  eldest,  the  Due  de 
Soria  of  to-day,  has  been  deprived  of  all  his  property, 
honors  and  grandeurs  by  the  King  Ferdinand,  who 
avenges  an  old  enmity.  The  duke  committed  an 
immense  fault  in  accepting  the  constitutional  minis- 
try with  Valdez.  Happily,  he  escaped  from  Cadiz 
before  the  entry  of  Monseigneur,  the  Due  d'Angou- 
leme,  who,  despite  his  good  will  did  not  succeed  in 
saving  him  from  the  anger  of  the  king." 

This  reply,  which  the  Vicomte  de  Vandenesse 
brought  me  textual ly,  gave  me  a  great  deal  to  think 
of.  I  cannot  say  in  what  anxiety  I  passed  the  time 
till  my  first  lesson,  which  took  place  this  morning. 
During  the  first  quarter  of  an  hour  of  the  lesson,  I 
asked  myself,  while  studying  him,  if  he  were  duke 
or  bourgeois,  without  being  able  to  arrive  at  any 
conclusion.  He  seemed  to  divine  my  thoughts  as 
they  rose  in  me  and  to  please  himself  by  baffling 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  85 

them.  Finally  I  could  no  longer  restrain  myself,  I 
left  my  book  abruptly,  and,  interrupting  the  trans- 
lation which  I  was  making  aloud,  I  said  to  him  in 
Spanish: 

"You  are  deceiving  us,  monsieur.  You  are  not  a 
poor  bourgeois  liberal,  you  are  the  Due  de  Soria!" 

" Mademoiselle,"  he  replied  with  a  sorrowful 
movement,  "unfortunately,  I  am  not  the  Due  de 
Soria." 

I  comprehended  all  the  despair  that  he  put  in  the 
word  unfortunately.  Ah!  my  dear,  it  would  be, 
certainly,  impossible  to  put  so  much  and  as  much 
passion  in  a  single  word.  He  had  lowered  his  eyes 
and  no  longer  dared  to  look  at  me. 

"Monsieur  de  Talleyrand,"  I  said  to  him,  "with 
whom  you  passed  the  years  of  exile,  leaves  no  other 
alternative  to  a  Henarez  but  to  be  either  the  Due 
de  Soria  in  disgrace  or  a  servant" 

He  lifted  his  eyes  to  me  and  showed  me  two 
brasiers  black  and  brilliant,  two  eyes  at  once  flam- 
ing and  humiliated.  This  man  appeared  to  me  to 
be  at  this  moment  in  torture. 

"My  father,"  he  said,  "was  in  fact  a  servant 
of  the  King  of  Spain." 

Griffith  was  not  acquainted  with  this  method  of 
study.  We  made  disquieting  pauses  at  each  ques- 
tion and  at  each  answer. 

"In  fact,"  I  said  to  him,  "are  you  noble  or  bour- 
geois?" 

"You  know,  mademoiselle,  that  in  Spain  every- 
body, even  the  beggar,  is  noble." 


86  MEMOIRS  OF 

This  reserve  made  me  impatient.  I  had  prepared 
since  the  last  lesson  one  of  those  amusements  which 
please  the  imagination.  I  had  traced  in  a  letter 
the  ideal  portrait  of  the  man  by  whom  I  should  wish 
to  be  loved,  proposing  to  myself  to  give  it  to  him  to 
translate.  Up  to  this  time,  I  had  translated  from 
Spanish  into  French,  and  not  from  French  into 
Spanish;  I  made  this  observation  to  him,  and  asked 
Griffith  to  get  for  me  the  last  letter  which  I  had 
received  from  one  of  my  girl  friends. 

"I  will  see,"  I  thought,  "by  the  effect  which 
my  programme  has  on  him,  what  blood  is  in  his 
veins." 

I  took  the  paper  from  the  hands  of  Griffith  saying : 

"See  if  I  have  made  a  good  copy." 

For  it  was  all  in  my  handwriting.  I  offered  the 
paper,  in  which  lay  if  you  wish  the  trap,  and  I  ex- 
amined him  while  he  read  this: 

"The  man  who  will  please  me,  my  dear,  will  be 
rude  and  haughty  with  men,  but  gentle  with  women. 
His  eagle  glance  will  repress  instantly  anything 
which  can  resemble  ridicule.  He  will  have  a  smile 
of  pity  for  those  who  wish  to  turn  into  jest  sacred 
things,  those  above  all  which  constitute  the  poetry 
of  the  heart,  and  without  which  life  would  be  noth- 
ing more  than  a  sorrowful  reality.  I  despise  pro- 
foundly those  who  would  wish  to  deprive  us  of  the 
source  of  religious  ideas,  so  fertile  in  consolation. 
Thus,  his  beliefs  should  have  the  simplicity  of  those 
of  a  child  united  to  the  unshakable  conviction  of  a 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  87 

man  of  intellect  who  has  thoroughly  examined  his 
reasons  for  belief.  His  wit  new,  original,  shall  be 
without  affectation  or  parade;  he  can  say  nothing 
which  shall  be  unnecessary  or  out  of  place;  it  will 
be  as  impossible  for  him  to  weary  others  as  to  weary 
himself;  for  he  will  have  in  his  soul  a  fund  of  rich- 
ness. All  his  thoughts  should  be  of  a  noble  charac- 
ter, elevated,  chivalrous,  with  no  trace  of  egotism. 
In  all  his  actions,  there  shall  be  remarked  the  total 
absence  of  calculation  or  of  interest.  His  defects 
shall  arise  from  the  very  extent  of  his  ideas,  which 
shall  be  above  his  time.  In  everything,  1  should 
expect  to  find  him  in  advance  of  his  epoch.  Full  of 
delicate  attentions  for  all  feeble  things,  he  shall  be 
considerate  for  all  women,  but  only  with  great  diffi- 
culty seriously  attracted  by  any  one; — he  will  con- 
sider this  as  much  too  serious  to  be  made  a  sport  of. 
It  may  thus  happen  that  he  wrll  pass  his  life  with- 
out truly  loving,  whilst  displaying  in  himself  all 
the  qualities  which  can  inspire  a  profound  passion. 
But,  if  he  once  finds  his  ideal  woman,  that  one  seen 
in  glimpses  of  waking  dreams;  if  he  encounters  a 
being  who  comprehends  him,  who  fills  his  soul  and 
sheds  on  all  his  life  a  ray  of  happiness,  who  shines 
for  him  as  a  star  through  the  clouds  of  this  world  so 
sombre,  so  cold,  so  icy;  who  gives  an  entirely  new 
charm  to  his  existence,  and  causes  to  vibrate  in  him 
the  hitherto  silent  chords, — it  is  useless  to  say  that 
he  will  recognize  and  appreciate  his  happiness. 
Also  will  he  render  her  perfectly  happy.  Never, 
neither  by  a  word  or  by  a  look,  will  he  hurt  that 


88  MEMOIRS  OF 

loving  heart  which  will  be  placed  in  his  hands  with 
the  blind  love  of  an  infant  who  sleeps  in  the  arms 
of  its  mother ;  for,  if  she  awaken  from  this  sweet 
dream,  her  heart  and  her  soul  will  be  forever  rent; 
it  will  be  impossible  for  her  to  embark  on  this  ocean 
without  committing  to  it  all  her  future. 

"This  man  will  have  necessarily  the  physiog- 
nomy, the  appearance,  the  walk,  in  short  the  manner 
of  doing  the  greatest  as  well  as  the  smallest  things 
of  superior  beings,  who  are  simple  and  without  pre- 
vious preparation.  He  may  be  ugly,  but  his  hands 
shall  be  handsome;  he  will  have  the  upper  lip 
slightly  curled  by  an  ironical  and  disdainful  smile 
for  the  indifferent;  and  he  will  reserve  for  those 
whom  he  loves  the  celestial  and  brilliant  ray  of  his 
look  which  reveals  his  soul." 

"Mademoiselle,"  he  said  to  me  in  Spanish  and  in 
a  voice  deeply  moved,  "will  she  permit  me  to  keep 
this  in  memory  of  her?  This  is  the  last  lesson 
which  I  shall  have  the  honor  to  give  her,  and  that 
which  I  receive  in  this  writing  may  become  an 
eternal  rule  of  conduct  I  left  Spain  a  fugitive  and 
penniless ;  but  to-day  I  have  received  from  my  fam- 
ily a  sum  which  suffices  for  my  needs.  I  shall  have 
the  honor  to  send  you  some  poor  Spaniard  to  re- 
place me." 

He  seemed  thus  to  say  to  me :  "There  is  enough 
of  this  play."  He  rose  by  a  movement  of  incredi- 
ble dignity  and  left  me  confounded  by  this  deli- 
cacy unknown  among  the  men  of  his  class.  He 


LOUISE  AND  THE  BARON  DE  MACUMER 


He  seemed  thus  to  say  to  me :  "  There  is  enough 
of  this  play"  He  rose  by  a  movement  of  incredi- 
ble dignity  and  left  me  confounded  by  this  deli- 
cacy unknown  among  the  '  men  of  his  class.  He 
descended  and  asked  to  see  my  father.  At  dinner, 
my  father  said  to  me  smiling: 

"Louise,  you  have  received  lessons  in  Spanish 
from  an  ex-minister  of  the  king  of  Spam  and  a 
man  condemned  to  death'' 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  89 

descended  and  asked  to  see  my  father.  At  dinner, 
my  father  said  to  me  smiling: 

"Louise,  you  have  received  lessons  in  Spanish 
from  an  ex-minister  of  the  King  of  Spain  and  a  man 
condemned  to  death." 

"The  Due  de  Soria,"  I  said  to  him. 

"The  duke!"  replied  my  father.  "He  is  so  no 
longer,  he  now  takes  the  title  of  Baron  de  Macumer, 
from  a  fief  which  remains  to  him  in  Sardinia.  He 
seems  to  me  sufficiently  original." 

"Do  not  dishonor  with  this  word  which,  with  you, 
always  carries  a  tinge  of  mockery  and  disdain,  a 
man  who  is  worthy  of  you,"  I  said  to  him,  "and 
who,  I  believe,  has  a  noble  soul." 

"Baroness  de  Macumer?"  cried  my  father  looking 
at  me  with  a  mocking  air. 

I  lowered  my  eyes  with  a  movement  of  pride. 

"But,"  said  my  mother,  "Henarez  must  have  en- 
countered on  the  doorstep  the  Spanish  ambassa- 
dor?" 

"Yes,"  replied  my  father.  "The  ambassador 
asked  me  if  I  were  conspiring  against  the  king,  his 
master;  but  he  saluted  the  ex-grandee  of  Spain  with 
much  deference,  placing  himself  at  his  orders." 

This,  my  dear  Madame  de  1'Estorade,  happened 
two  weeks  ago,  and  it  is  now  two  weeks  since  I 
have  seen  this  man  who  loves  me,  for  this  man 
loves  me.  What  is  he  doing?  I  would  like  to  be 
a  fly,  a  mouse,  a  sparrow.  I  should  like  to  see  him 
alone,  at  home,  without  his  perceiving  me.  We 
have  a  man  to  whom  I  can  say:  "Go  and  die  for 


90  MEMOIRS  OF 

me! — "  And  he  is  of  a  character  to  do  it,  I  believe 
so  at  least  Finally,  there  is  in  Paris  a  man  of 
whom  I  think,  whose  look  and  whose  glance 
fill  me  inwardly  with  light.  Oh!  it  is  an  enemy 
whom  I  should  tread  under  foot  What,  there  should 
be  a  man  without  whom  I  could  not  live,  who  should 
be  necessary  to  me !  You  are  married  and  I  am  in 
love !  At  the  end  of  four  months,  these  two  pigeons 
who  flew  so  high  have  fallen  into  the  mire  of  reality. 

Sunday. 

Yesterday,  at  the  Italiens,  I  felt  myself  looked  at, 
my  eyes  were  attracted  as  if  by  magic  by  two  eyes 
of  fire  which  burned  like  two  carbuncles  in  an  ob- 
scure corner  of  the  orchestra.  Henarez  did  not  take 
his  eyes  off  me.  The  monster  had  sought  the  only 
pi  ace  from  which  he  could  see  me,  and  there  he  was. 
I  do  not  know  what  he  is  in  politics,  but  he  has  a 
genius  for  love. 

"  Such,  beautiful  Rene'e,  is  the  point  where  we  are," 
as  the  grand  Corneille  says 

XIII 

MADAME  DE   L'ESTORADE    TO    MADEMOISELLE    DE 
CHAULIEU 

La  Crampade,  February. 

My  dear  Louise,  before  writing  to  you  I  have  been 
obliged  to  wait;  but  now  I  know  so  many  things, 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  91 

or,  rather,  I  have  learned  them,  and  I  should  reveal 
them  to  you  for  your  future  happiness.  There  is 
so  much  difference  between  a  young  girl  and  a  mar- 
ried woman,  that  the  young  girl  can  no  more  con- 
ceive it  than  the  married  woman  could  become 
again  a  young  girl.  I  prefer  being  married  to  Louis 
de  1'Estorade  to  returning  to  the  convent  This  is 
clear.  After  having  understood  that,  if  I  did  not 
marry  Louis  I  would  return  to  the  convent,  I  was 
obliged,  in  the  words  of  the  young  girl,  to  resign 
myself.  Resigned,  I  set  myself  to  examining  my 
situation  in  order  to  make  the  best  possible  use 
of  it 

In  the  first  place,  the  gravity  of  the  engagement 
filled  me  with  terror.  Marriage  proposes  to  itself  a 
life,  whilst  love  only  proposes  to  itself  pleasure; 
but  marriage  continues  when  the  pleasures  dis- 
appear, and  gives  birth  to  interests  much  more  dear 
than  those  of  the  man  and  the  woman  who  unite 
themselves.  Thus  perhaps  it  is  not  necessary,  in 
order  to  have  a  happy  marriage,  to  have  more  than 
that  friendship  which,  because  of  its  gentleness, 
resigns  itself  to  many  human  imperfections.  Noth- 
ing opposed  my  having  a  friendship  for  Louis  de 
1'Estorade.  Fully  decided  not  to  seek  in  marriage 
the  enjoyments  of  that  love  of  which  we  thought  so 
often  and  with  a  so  dangerous  exaltation,  I  felt  the 
gentlest  tranquillity  within  me.  "If  I  have  not 
love,  why  not  seek  for  happiness?"  I  said  to 
myself.  "Moreover,  I  am  loved,  and  I  will  let  myself 
be  loved.  My  marriage  will  not  be  a  servitude,  but 


92  MEMOIRS  OF 

a  perpetual  commandment.  What  inconvenience 
will  this  state  of  affairs  offer  to  a  woman  who 
wishes  to  remain  absolute  mistress  of  herself?" 

This  point,  so  important,  of  having  marriage 
without  the  husband  was  arranged  in  a  conversation 
between  Louis  and  myself,  in  which  he  revealed  to 
me  the  excellence  of  his  character  and  the  gentle- 
ness of  his  soul.  My  mignonne,  I  wish  greatly  to 
remain  in  this  beautiful  season  of  amorous  hope 
which,  not  giving  birth  to  pleasure,  leaves  to  the 
soul  its  virginity.  To  yield  nothing  to  duty,  to  the 
law,  to  depend  only  on  one's  self  and  to  preserve 
one's  freedom  of  will — what  a  sweet  and  noble 
thing!  This  contract,  opposed  to  that  of  the  laws 
and  of  the  sacrament  itself,  could  only  be  drawn  up 
between  Louis  and  myself.  This  difficulty,  the 
first  one  seen,  is  the  only  one  which  followed  the 
conclusion  of  my  marriage.  If,  from  the  beginning, 
I  had  resolved  to  do  anything  rather  than  to  return  to 
the  convent,  it  is  in  our  natures  to  demand  the  most 
after  having  obtained  the  least;  and  we  are,  dear 
angel,  of  those  who  want  all.  I  examined  my 
Louis  out  of  the  corner  of  my  eye,  and  I  said  to  my- 
self: "Has  misfortune  made  him  good  or  bad?" 
By  dint  of  studying  him,  1  ended  by  discovering 
that  his  love  amounted  to  a  passion.  Once  arrived 
at  the  state  of  an  idol,  in  seeing  him  pale  and  trem- 
ble at  the  least  look  of  coolness,  I  comprehended 
that  I  could  dare  anything.  I  naturally  led  him 
away  from  his  parents,  in  walks  in  which  I  pru- 
dently interrogated  his  heart  I  made  him  talk,  I 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  93 

demanded  of  him  an  account  of  his  ideas,  of  his 
plans,  of  our  future.  My  questions  revealed  so 
much  preconceived  reflection  and  attacked  so  pre- 
cisely the  weakest  spots  of  this  horrible  double  life, 
that  Louis  has  since  avowed  to  me  that  he  was  ter- 
rified at  a  so  sapient  virginity.  For  myself,  I  lis- 
tened to  his  answers;  he  twisted  himself  up  in  them 
like  those  from  whom  fear  takes  away  all  their 
methods ;  I  finished  by  seeing  that  chance  had  given 
me  an  adversary  who  was  so  much  the  more  inferior 
to  me  that  he  divined  instinctively  that  which  you 
named  so  proudly  my  great  soul.  Broken  by  mis- 
fortunes and  by  distress,  he  regarded  himself  as 
almost  destroyed,  and  lost  himself  in  three  horrible 
fears.  In  the  first  place,  he  is  thirty-seven  and  I 
am  only  seventeen;  it  is  not  without  fear  then  that 
he  measures  the  twenty  years  which  separate  our 
ages.  Then,  he  is  convinced  that  I  am  very  beau- 
tiful ;  and  Louis,  who  shares  our  opinions  on  this 
subject,  does  not  see  without  deep  sorrow  how  much 
of  his  youth  has  been  lost  through  his  sufferings. 
Finally,  he  feels  that  I  as  a  woman,  am  much  supe- 
rior to  him  as  a  man.  Reduced  to  distrust  of  him- 
self by  these  three  visible  inferiorities,  he  fears 
that  he  cannot  make  me  happy,  and  sees  himself 
taken  only  as  a  last  resource.  Were  it  not  for  the 
convent  in  the  distance,  I  would  not  marry  him, 
he  said  to  me  one  evening  timidly. 

"That  is  true,"  I  replied  gravely. 

My  dear  friend,  he  caused  me  the  first  of  those 
great  emotions  which  men  occasion  us.  I  was 


94  MEMOIRS  OF 

touched  to  the  heart  by  the  two  great  tears  which 
welled  up  in  his  eyes 

"Louis,"  I  said  in  a  consoling  voice,  "it  rests  en- 
tirely with  you  to  make  of  this  marriage  of  conven- 
ience a  marriage  to  which  I  can  give  my  entire 
consent.  That  which  I  am  going  to  ask  of  you  re- 
quires on  your  part  a  much  nobler  abnegation  than 
the  pretended  servitude  of  your  love  when  it  is  sin- 
cere. Can  you  elevate  yourself  to  the  level  of 
friendship  as  I  understand  it?  One  has  only  one 
friend  during  life,  and  1  wish  to  be  yours.  Friend- 
ship is  the  bond  of  two  similar  souls,  united  by 
their  strength  and  yet  independent.  Let  us  be 
friends  and  associates  to  support  life  together. 
Leave  me  my  entire  independence.  I  do  not  forbid 
your  inspiring  me  with  that  love  for  you  which  you 
say  you  have  for  me;  but  I  wish  to  be  your  wife 
only  willingly.  Give  me  the  desire  to  abandon  to 
you  my  free  will,  and  I  will  sacrifice  it  to  you  im- 
mediately. Thus,  I  do  not  forbid  your  importing 
passion  into  this  friendship,  or  troubling  it  by  the 
voice  of  love:  I  will  endeavor  for  my  part  to  make 
our  affection  perfect.  Above  all,  spare  me  the  un- 
pleasantnesses which  the  sufficiently  awkward  sit- 
uations in  which  we  will  then  find  ourselves  may 
give  me  before  others.  I  do  not  wish  to  appear 
either  capricious  or  prudish,  because  1  am  not  so  in 
the  least,  and  I  think  you  a  sufficiently  honest  man 
to  offer  to  you  to  preserve  the  outward  appearances 
of  marriage." 

My  dear,  I  have  never  seen  a  man  so  happy  as 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  95 

was  Louis  at  my  proposition;  his  eyes  sparkled,  the 
fire  of  happiness  in  them  dried  his  tears. 

"Do  not  think,"  I  said  to  him  in  conclusion, 
"that  there  is  anything  extravagant  in  that  which  I 
ask  of  you.  This  condition  arises  from  my  very 
great  desire  to  have  your  esteem.  If  you  had  ac- 
quired me  only  through  marriage,  would  you  be 
more  grateful  to  me  some  day  to  see  your  love 
crowned  by  the  legal  or  religious  formalities  and 
not  by  myself?  If,  while  you  still  did  not  please 
me,  but  while  obeying  you  passively,  as  my  very 
honored  mother  had  just  recommended  me  to  do,  I 
should  have  a  child,  do  you  think  that  I  would  love 
that  child  as  much  as  one  who  would  be  the  son  of 
a  mutual  desire?  If  it  be  not  indispensable  to 
please  each  other  as  much  as  the  lovers  do,  admit, 
monsieur,  that  it  is  necessary  not  to  displease  each 
other.  Well,  we  are  about  to  be  placed  in  a  dan- 
gerous situation, — we  are  going  to  live  in  the 
country,  is  it  not  necessary  to  reflect  on  all  the  in- 
stabilities of  passion?  Can  not  the  wise  take 
measures  in  advance  against  the  misfortunes  of 
change?" 

He  was  strangely  suprised  to  find  me  so  reason- 
able and  so  reasoning;  but  he  made  me  a  solemn 
promise,  on  which  I  took  his  hand  and  grasped  it 
affectionately. 

We  were  married  at  the  end  of  the  week.  Cer- 
tain of  preserving  my  liberty,  I  put  a  good  deal  of 
gaiety  into  all  the  insipid  details  of  the  ceremony, 
— I  could  be  myself,  and  perhaps  I  was  set  down  for 


96  MEMOIRS  OF 

a  very  lively  gossip,  to  use  the  phrase  of  Blois. 
They  had  secured  for  the  position  of  mistress  of  the 
household  a  young  girl  charmed  with  the  situation, 
so  novel  and  full  of  resources,  in  which  I  had  been 
able  to  establish  myself.  My  dear,  I  had  perceived, 
as  in  a  vision,  all  the  difficulties  of  my  life,  and  I 
sincerely  desired  to  make  the  happiness  of  this  man. 
Now,  in  the  solitude  in  which  we  live,  if  a  wife 
does  not  command,  the  marriage  becomes  insup- 
portable in  a  very  little  time.  A  wife  should 
therefore  have  the  charms  of  a  mistress  and  the 
qualities  of  a  spouse.  To  mingle  some  uncertainty 
with  pleasure, — is  it  not  to  prolong  the  illusion  and 
to  perpetuate  the  enjoyments  of  self-love  to  which 
all  creatures  cling  so  close  and  with  so  much  reason  ? 
Conjugal  love,  as  I  conceive  it,  invests  a  wife  with 
hope,  renders  her  sovereign  and  gives  her  an  inex- 
haustible force,  a  warmth  of  life  which  makes 
everything  flourish  around  her.  The  more  she  is 
mistress  of  herself,  the  more  certain  is  she  to  render 
happiness  and  love  vital  qualities.  But  I  have 
above  all  exacted  that  the  most  profound  mystery 
should  cover  our  interior  arrangements.  The  man 
who  is  ruled  by  his  wife  is  justly  an  object  of  ridi- 
cule. The  influence  of  a  woman  should  be  entirely 
secret:  with  us,  in  everything,  it  is  grace,  that  is 
mystery.  If  I  undertake  to  lift  up  this  disheartened 
character,  to  restore  to  their  native  lustre  qualities 
of  which  I  have  caught  gl  impses,  I  wish  that  every- 
thing should  seem  spontaneous  in  Louis.  Such  is 
the  sufficiently  fine  task  which  I  have  given  myself 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  97 

and  which  is  enough  for  the  glory  of  a  woman.  I 
am  almost  proud  of  having  a  secret  to  make  my  life 
interesting,  a  plan  to  which  I  shall  bring  all  my 
efforts,  and  which  will  be  known  only  to  you  and  to 
God. 

At  present  I  am  almost  happy,  and  perhaps  would 
be  entirely  so  if  I  could  communicate  it  to  a  be- 
loved soul, — but  the  idea  of  saying  it  to  him,  to 
him?  My  happiness  would  hurt  him,  it  has  been 
necessary  to  hide  it  from  him.  He  has,  my  dear, 
the  delicacy  of  a  woman,  like  all  men  who  have 
suffered  much.  During  three  months  we  remained 
as  we  were  before  marriage.  I  studied,  as  you  may 
well  think,  a  multitude  of  little  personal  questions, 
of  much  more  importance  to  love  than  is  generally 
believed.  Notwithstanding  my  coldness,  this  em- 
boldened soul  unfolded  itself, — I  have  seen  this 
countenance  change  expression  and  rejuvenate  itself. 
The  elegance  which  I  introduced  in  the  household 
has  thrown  its  reflection  upon  his  person.  I  have 
become  accustomed  to  him  insensibly,  I  have  made 
of  him  another  myself.  Through  constantly  seeing 
him,  I  have  discovered  the  correspondence  between 
his  soul  and  his  physiognomy.  The  beast  which 
we  call  a  husband,  according  to  your  expression, 
has  disappeared.  I  have  seen,  on  an  evening  I 
know  not  how  sweet,  a  lover  whose  words  went  to 
my  soul,  and  on  whose  arm  I  leaned  with  an  inde- 
scribable pleasure.  Finally,  to  be  truthful  with 
you,  as  I  shall  be  with  God,  whom  one  cannot  de- 
ceive, piqued  perhaps  by  the  admirable  fidelity 
7 


98  MEMOIRS  OF 

with  which  he  kept  his  oath,  curiosity  awakened 
in  my  heart  Very  much  ashamed  of  myself,  I  re- 
sisted. Alas!  when  one  no  longer  resists  but 
through  dignity,  an  agreement  is  soon  arrived  at. 
The  fete  has  then  been  secret  as  between  two 
lovers,  and  secret  it  shall  remain  between  us. 
When  you  get  married,  you  will  approve  of  my  dis- 
cretion. You  may  know,  however,  that  nothing  was 
wanting  of  that  which  the  most  delicate  love  might 
wish,  nor  of  that  something  unforeseen  which  is,  in 
some  sort,  the  honor  of  that  moment, — the  myster- 
ious graces  which  our  imaginations  ask  of  it,  the 
impulse  which  excuses,  the  consent  obtained,  the 
ideal  delights  of  which  we  have  long  had  glimpses 
and  which  subjugate  our  souls  before  we  allow  our- 
selves tp  come  to  the  reality,  all  the  seductions 
were  there  in  enchanting  forms. 

I  avow  to  you  that,  notwithstanding  all  these  fine 
things,  I  have  anew  stipulated  for  my  freedom  of 
will,  and  I  do  not  wish  to  tell  you  all  the  reasons. 
You  will  certainly  be  the  only  soul  in  whom  I  will 
confide  this  demi-confidence.  Even  in  belonging  to 
one's  husband,  adored  or  not,  I  believe  that  we 
should  lose  a  great  deal  in  not  hiding  our  senti- 
ments and  the  judgment  which  we  form  of  marriage. 
The  only  joy  which  I  have  had,  and  which  has  been 
heavenly,  comes  from  the  certainty  of  having  re- 
stored life  to  this  poor  being  before  giving  it  to 
children.  Louis  has  resumed  his  youth,  his 
strength,  his  gaiety.  He  is  no  longer  the  same 
man.  I  have,  like  a  fairy,  effaced  even  the  memory 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  99 

of  his  sorrows.  I  have  metamorphosed  Louis,  he 
has  become  charming.  Sure  of  pleasing  me,  he 
displays  his  mind  and  reveals  new  qualities.  To 
be  the  constant  principle  of  the  happiness  of  a  man, 
when  that  man  is  conscious  of  it  and  mingles  grati- 
tude with  love,  ah!  dear,  this  certainly  develops 
in  the  soul  a  strength  which  surpasses  that  of  the 
most  complete  love.  This  impetuous  and  durable 
force,  one  and  varied,  gives  birth  finally  to  the 
family,  that  beautiful  work  of  women,  and  which 
I  now  comprehend  in  all  its  fertile  beauty.  The 
old  father  is  no  longer  avaricious.  He  gives  blindly 
whatever  I  wish  for.  The  domestics  are  joyful ;  it 
seems  as  though  the  happiness  of  Louis  had  radiated 
in  this  interior,  where  I  reign  through  love.  The  old 
man  has  adapted  himself  to  all  my  ameliorations,  he 
has  wished  not  to  offer  any  contrast  to  my  luxury ;  he 
has  assumed, to  please  me, the  costume  and,with  the 
costume,  the  manners  of  the  present  day.  We  have 
English  horses,  a  coupe,  a  caleche  and  a  tilbury. 
Our  servants  have  a  simple  but  not  inelegant  liv- 
ery. Thus  we  pass  for  prodigals.  I  employ  my 
intelligence — I  am  not  laughing — to  maintain  my 
household  with  economy,  to  give  in  it  the  utmost 
pleasure  for  the  least  possible  sum.  I  have  already 
demonstrated  to  Louis  the  necessity  of  constructing 
roads,  in  order  to  acquire  the  reputation  of  a  man 
occupied  with  the  welfare  of  his  country.  I  oblige 
him  to  complete  his  instruction.  I  hope  to  see  him 
soon  member  of  the  Council  General  of  his  depart- 
ment through  the  influence  of  my  family  and  that  of 


100  MEMOIRS  OF 

his  mother.  I  have  declared  to  him  flatly  that  I 
was  ambitious,  that  I  did  not  take  it  ill  that  his 
father  continued  to  look  after  our  property,  to  accu- 
mulate savings,  because  I  wished  him  to  be  devoted 
to  politics;  if  we  should  have  children,  I  should 
wish  to  see  them  all  happy  and  occupying  good  sit- 
uations in  the  State;  under  penalty  of  losing  my 
esteem  and  my  affection,  he  must  become  a  deputy 
of  the  department  at  the  coming  elections;  my  fam- 
ily will  aid  his  candidacy,  and  we  shall  then  have 
the  pleasure  of  passing  all  the  winters  at  Paris. 
Ah!  my  angel,  by  the  ardor  with  which  he  has 
obeyed  me,  I  have  been  able  to  see  how  much  I  was 
loved.  Finally,  yesterday,  he  wrote  me  this  letter 
from  Marseilles, where  he  had  gone  for  a  few  hours. 

"When  you  gave  me  permission  to  love  you,  my 
gentle  Renee,  I  believed  in  happiness;  but,  to-day, 
I  no  longer  see  any  end  to  it.  The  past  is  no  longer 
anything  but  a  vague  memory,  a  shadow  necessary 
to  give  value  to  the  splendor  of  my  felicity.  When 
I  am  at  your  side,  I  am  transported  by  love  to  such 
an  extent  that  I  am  incapable  of  expressing  to  you 
the  extent  of  my  affection, — I  can  only  admire  you, 
adore  you.  Speech  only  comes  to  me  when  1  am 
away  from  you.  You  are  perfectly  beautiful,  and 
of  a  beauty  so  grave,  so  majestic,  that  time  will 
change  it  with  difficulty;  and,  although  love  be- 
tween husband  and  wife  is  not  connected  so  much 
with  beauty  as  with  the  feelings,  which  are  excel- 
lent in  you,  let  me  say  to  you  that  this  certainty  of 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  IOI 

seeing  you  always  beautiful  gives  me  a  joy  which 
is  increased  at  every  look  I  give  you.  The  har- 
mony and  the  dignity  of  the  lines  of  your  face,  in 
which  your  sublime  soul  is  revealed,  have  an  inex- 
pressible purity  under  the  vigorous  color  of  the  skin. 
The  light  of  your  black  eyes  and  the  bold  line  of 
your  forehead  reveal  to  us  how  much  your  virtues 
are  elevated,  how  valuable  is  your  intercourse  and 
how  your  heart  would  be  superior  to  the  storms  of 
life,  if  any  should  arise.  Nobility  is  your  distinc- 
tive character ;  I  do  not  pretend  to  comprehend  you ; 
but  I  write  this  to  you  that  you  may  know  that  I 
am  aware  of  all  the  value  of  the  treasure  which  I 
possess.  The  little  which  you  will  grant  me  will 
be  always  happiness  for  me,  for  a  longtime  to  come 
as  at  present;  for  I  feel  all  that  is  grand  in  our 
promise  to  retain  on  both  sides,  all  our  liberty.  We 
shall  never  be  indebted  to  anything  but  our  free 
will  for  any  testimony  of  tenderness.  We  shall  be 
free  notwithstanding  the  close  chains.  I  shall  be 
so  much  the  more  proud  to  win  you  again  thus  that 
I  now  know  the  prize  which  you  attach  to  this  con- 
quest. You  will  never  be  able  to  speak  or  to 
breathe,  to  act  or  to  think,  without  my  forever  ad- 
miring, all  the  more,  the  grace  of  your  body  and 
that  of  your  soul.  There  is  in  you  something 
divine,  sensible,  and  enchanting,  which  I  cannot 
express,  that  brings  into  accord  reflection,  honor, 
pleasure  and  hope,  which  gives,  in  short,  to  love  a 
more  spacious  extent  than  that  of  life.  Oh,  my 
angel,  may  the  genius  of  love  remain  faithful  to  me 


102  MEMOIRS  OF 

and  the  future  be  full  of  that  delight  by  the  aid  of 
which  you  have  embellished  everything  around  me! 
When  will  you  be  a  mother,  that  I  may  see  you 
commended  by  the  vigor  of  your  life,  that  I  may 
hear  you,  with  that  voice  so  smooth  and  with  those 
thoughts  so  fine,  so  new,  and  so  curiously  well  ren- 
dered, bless  that  love  which  has  refreshed  my  soul, 
retempered  my  faculties,  which  constitutes  my 
pride,  and  from  which  I  have  drawn,  as  from  a 
magic  fountain,  a  new  life?  Yes,  I  will  be  all  that 
you  wish  that  I  should  be:  I  will  become  one  of  the 
men  useful  to  my  country,  and  I  will  reflect  upon 
you  that  glory  the  guiding  principle  of  which  will 
be  your  satisfaction." 

My  dear,  you  may  see  how  I  form  him.  This 
style  is  of  recent  date;  in  a  year,  it  will  be  better. 
Louis  is  in  the  first  transports,  I  am  expecting  for 
him  that  equal  and  continuous  sensation  of  happi- 
ness which  a  happy  marriage  should  give  when, 
sure  of  a  perfect  mutual  knowledge,  a  man  and  a 
woman  have  found  the  secret  of  varying  the  infinite, 
of  lending  enchantment  to  the  very  basis  of  life. 
This  fine  secret  of  true  spouses,  I  have  glimpses  of 
and  wish  to  possess.  You  see  that  he  thinks  him- 
self loved,  the  stupid,  as  if  he  were  not  my  hus-. 
band.  I  am  as  yet,  however,  only  at  that  material 
attachment  which  gives  us  the  strength  to  support 
many  things.  However,  Louis  is  amiable,  there  is 
a  grand  equality  in  his  character,  he  does  quite 
simply  those  things  for  which  the  greater  number 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  103 

of  men  praise  themselves.     In  fact,  if  I  do  not  love 
him,  I  feel  myself  very  capable  of  cherishing  him. 

Here  then  are  my  black  hairs,  my  black  eyes  the 
lashes  of  which  unfold  themselves,  according  to 
you,  like  jalousies,  my  imperial  air  and  my  person 
elevated  to  the  rank  of  sovereign  power.  We  will 
see  in  ten  years  from  now,  my  dear,  if  we  are  not 
both  of  us  very  gay,  very  happy  in  that  Paris,  from 
which  I  shall  bring  you  back  sometimes  into  my 
beautiful  oasis  of  Provence.  Oh,  Louise,  do  not 
compromise  our  beautiful  future  for  both  of  us!  Do 
not  commit  the  follies  with  which  you  menace  me. 
I  have  married  an  old  young  man,  do  you  marry 
some  young  old  man  of  the  Chamber  of  Peers.  You 
will  be  there  in  the  right 

XIV 
THE  DUG  DE  SORIA  TO  THE  BARON  DE  MACUMER 

Madrid. 

My  dear  brother,  you  have  not  made  me  Due  de 
Soria  for  me  not  to  act  as  Due  de  Soria.  If  I  knew 
you  were  wandering  and  without  the  comforts  which 
fortune  gives  everywhere,  you  would  render  my 
happiness  insupportable.  Neither  Marie  nor  I,  we 
will  not  marry  until  we  have  learned  that  you  have 
accepted  the  sum  sent  to  you  by  Urraca.  These 
two  millions  come  from  your  own  savings  and  from 
those  of  Marie.  We  have  prayed  both  of  us  kneel- 
ing before  the  same  altar,  and  with  what  fervor ! 
ah!  God  knows!  for  your  happiness.  Oh!  my 


104  MEMOIRS  OF 

brother !  our  wishes  should  be  granted.  The  love 
which  you  seek  and  which  should  be  the  consola- 
tion of  your  exile,  it  will  descend  from  Heaven. 
Marie  read  your  letter  weeping,  and  all  her  admi- 
ration is  for  you.  As  for  myself,  I  have  accepted 
for  my  house  and  not  for  myself.  The  king  has 
fulfilled  your  expectation.  Ah!  you  have  so  dis- 
dainfully thrown  to  him  his  pleasure,  as  their  prey 
is  thrown  to  tigers,  that,  to  avenge  you,  I  would  like 
to  make  him  feel  how  you  have  crushed  him  by 
your  grandeur.  The  only  thing  which  I  have  taken 
for  myself,  dear  beloved  brother,  is  my  happiness, 
it  is  Marie.  Thus  shall  1  always  be  before  you  as 
a  creature  before  the  Creator.  There  will  be  in 
my  life  and  in  that  of  Marie  a  day  as  beautiful  as 
that  of  our  happy  marriage,  this  will  be  that  one  on 
which  we  shall  know  that  your  heart  is  compre- 
hended, that  a  woman  loves  you  as  you  should  be 
and  wished  to  be  loved.  Do  not  forget  that,  if  you 
live  for  us,  we  live  also  for  you.  You  can  write  to 
us  in  all  confidence  under  cover  of  the  Papal  Nuncio, 
sending  your  letters  by  way  of  Rome.  The  am- 
bassador of  France  at  Rome  will  doubtless  take 
charge  of  conveying  them  to  the  Secretary  of  State, 
to  Monseigneur  Bemboni,  whom  our  legate  has  had 
care  to  notify.  Any  other  conveyance  would  be 
unsafe.  Adieu,  dear  dispossessed  one,  dear  exile. 
Be  proud  at  least  of  the  happiness  which  you  have 
given  us  if  you  can  be  proud  of  it.  God  will  with- 
out doubt  listen  to  our  prayers  full  of  you. 

FERNAND. 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  105 

XV 
LOUISE  DE  CHAULIEU  TO  MADAME  DE  L'ESTORADE 

March. 

Ah,  my  angel,  marriage  makes  one  philosophi- 
cal ! — Your  dear  face  should  have  been  yellow  then 
when  you  were  writing  me  those  terrible  thoughts 
on  human  life  and  on  our  duties.  Do  you  believe 
then  that  you  will  convert  me  to  marriage  by  this 
programme  of  subterranean  labors?  Alas!  do  you 
see  then  the  state  to  which  you  have  been  brought 
by  our  too  knowing  reveries?  We  came  out  of 
Blois  adorned  with  all  our  innocence  and  armed 
with  the  sharp  points  of  reflection :  the  darts  of  this 
purely  moral  experience  of  things  have  turned 
against  you !  If  I  did  not  know  you  for  the  purest 
and  most  angelic  creature  in  the' world,  I  would  say 
to  you  that  your  calculations  suggested  depravation. 
Why,  my  dear,  in  the  interest  of  your  country  life, 
you  put  your  pleasure  in  regular  order,  you  treat 
love  as  you  treat  your  woods!  Oh!  I  had  rather 
perish  in  the  violence  of  the  whirlwinds  of  my 
heart  than  live  in  the  dryness  of  your  wise  arithme- 
tic. You  were,  like  me,  the  best  instructed  young 
girl,  because  we  had  reflected  a  great  deal  on  a  very 
few  things;  but,  my  child,  philosophy  without  love, 
or  under  a  false  love,  is  the  most  horrible  of  the 
conjugal  hypocrisies.  I  do  not  know  if,  from  time 
to  time,  the  greatest  imbecile  on  the  earth  would 
not  perceive  the  owl  of  wisdom  squatting  in  your 


106  MEMOIRS  OF 

heap  of  roses,  a  discovery  but  very  slightly  divert- 
ing, which  may  put  to  flight  the  best  kindled  pas- 
sion. You  make  your  own  destiny,  instead  of  being 
its  plaything.  We  are  both  of  us  developing  very 
singularly, — much  philosophy  and  little  love, 
this  is  your  regimen;  much  love  and  little  philos- 
ophy, this  is  mine.  The  Julie  of  Jean- Jacques, 
whom  I  thought  a  professor,  is  only  a  student 
compared  with  you.  Feminine  virtue!  have  you 
measured  life!  Alas!  1  am  making  fun  of  you, 
perhaps  you  are  right  You  have  immolated 
your  youth  in  a  day,  and  you  have  made  yourself 
miserly  before  the  time.  Your  Louis  will  un- 
doubtedly be  happy.  If  he  loves  you,  and  I  do 
not  doubt  it,  he  will  never  perceive  that  you  are 
conducting  yourself  in  the  interest  of  your  family 
just  as  the  courtesans  conduct  themselves  in  the  in- 
terest of  their  fortune;  and  certainly  they  render 
men  happy,  if  we  may  judge  by  the  crazy  dissipa- 
tions of  which  they  are  the  object.  A  clear-seeing 
husband  would  remain,  without  doubt,  passionately 
attached  to  you;  but  would  he  not  end  by  dispens- 
ing for  himself  with  all  gratitude  for  a  wife  who 
makes  of  falsehood  a  sort  of  moral  corset  as  neces- 
sary to  her  life  as  the  other  is  to  her  body?  But, 
dear,  love  is  in  my  eyes  the  principle  of  all  the  vir- 
tues ascribed  to  an  image  of  the  Divinity!  Love, 
like  all  the  principles,  does  not  calculate,  and  is 
the  infinite  in  our  souls.  Have  you  not  wished  to 
justify  to  yourself  the  frightful  position  of  a  young 
girl  married  to  a  man  whom  she  can  only  esteem? 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  107 

Duty,  that  is  your  rule  and  your  measure;  but  to 
act  through  necessity,  is  not  that  the  moral  ity  of  a 
society  of  Atheists?  To  act  through  love  and 
through  feeling,  is  not  that  the  secret  law  of 
women?  You  have  made  a  man  of  yourself,  and 
your  Louis  will  find  himself  the  woman !  Oh!  dear, 
your  letter  has  plunged  me  into  infinite  meditations. 
I  have  perceived  that  the  convent  will  never  take 
the  place  of  a  mother  for  young  girls.  I  entreat 
you,  my  noble  angel  with  black  eyes,  so  pure  and 
so  proud,  so  grave  and  so  elegant,  think  on  these 
first  cries  which  your  letter  has  drawn  from  me !  I 
have  consoled  myself  by  reflecting  that,  at  the 
moment  in  which  I  am  lamenting,  love  has  doubt- 
less overthrown  the  scaffoldings  of  reason.  I  should 
perhaps  do  worse  without  reasoning,  without  calcu- 
lating: passion  is  an  element  which  should  have  a 
logic  as  cruel  as  yours. 

Monday. 

Yesterday  evening,  when  retiring,  I  placed  my- 
self at  my  window  to  contemplate  the  sky,  which 
was  of  a  sublime  purity.  The  stars  resembled  sil- 
ver nails  which  held  up  a  blue  veil.  In  the  silence 
of  the  night,  I  could  hear  a  breathing,  and  by  the 
faint  light  of  the  stars  I  saw  my  Spaniard,  perched 
like  a  squirrel  in  the  branches  of  one  of  the  trees  of 
the  side  alley  of  the  boulevards,  admiring  doubtless 
my  windows.  This  discovery  had  for  its  first  effect 
to  send  me  back  into  my  chamber,  with  a  feeling 
as  though  my  hands  and  feet  were  broken ;  but,  at 


108  MEMOIRS  OF 

the  bottom  of  this  sensation  of  fear,  I  felt  a  deli- 
cious joy.  I  was  crushed  and  happy.  Not  one  of 
these  brilliant  Frenchmen  who  wish  to  marry  me 
has  had  the  spirit  to  come  and  pass  his  nights  in  an 
elm,  at  the  risk  of  being  arrested  by  the  guard. 
My  Spaniard  had  doubtless  been  there  some  time. 
Ah!  he  no  longer  gives  me  lessons,  he  wishes  to 
receive  them,  he  shall  have  them.  If  he  knew  all 
that  I  had  said  to  myself  about  his  apparent  ugli- 
ness! I  also,  Renee,  I  have  philosophized.  I  have 
thought  that  there  was  something  horrible  in  lov- 
ing a  handsome  man.  Is  it  not  to  admit  that  the 
senses  count  for  three-quarters  in  love,  which 
should  be  divine?  When  I  had  recovered  from  my 
first  fear,  I  stretched  my  neck  behind  the  glass  to 
see  him  again,  and  well  he  caught  me!  By  means 
of  a  hollow  cane  he  blew  to  me  through  the  window 
a  letter  artistically  rolled  around  a  large  leaden 
pellet. 

"Mon  Dieu!  does  he  think  that  I  have  left  my 
window  open  purposely?"  I  said  to  myself;  "to 
close  it  suddenly  would  be  to  make  myself  his  con- 
federate." 

I  did  better,  I  returned  to  my  window  as  if  I  had 
not  heard  the  sound  of  his  message,  as  if  I  had  seen 
nothing,  and  I  said  aloud: 

"Come  and  see  the  stars,  Griffith!" 

Griffith  was  sleeping  like  an  old  maid.  On  hear- 
ing me,  the  Moor  descended  with  the  quickness  of  a 
shadow.  He  must  have  died  with  fear  as  well  as 
myself,  for  I  did  not  hear  him  go  away,  he  remained 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  109 

doubtless  at  the  foot  of  the  elm.  After  a  good  quar- 
ter of  an  hour,  during  which  I  drowned  myself  in 
the  blue  of  the  heaven  and  swam  in  an  ocean  of 
curiosity,  I  closed  my  window,  and  I  got  in  bed  to 
unroll  the  fine  paper  with  the  care  of  those  scien- 
tists who  examine  in  Naples  the  antique  volumes. 
My  fingers  seemed  to  touch  fire.  "What  a  horrible 
power  this  man  exercises  over  me!"  I  said  to  my- 
self. Whereupon  I  presented  the  paper  to  the  light 
to  burn  it  without  reading  it — A  thought  restrained 
my  hand.  "What  is  he  writing  to  me,  that  he 
should  write  to  me  secretly?"  Well,  my  dear,  I 
burned  the  letter  reflecting  that,  if  all  the  young 
girls  in  the  world  would  have  devoured  it,  I, 
Armande-Louise-Marie  de  Chaulieu,  /  should  not 
read  it 

The  next  day  at  the  Italiens,  he  was  at  his  post; 
but,  First  Constitutional  Minister  though  he  may 
be,  I  do  not  think  that  my  attitude  revealed  to  him 
the  least  agitation  of  my  soul, — I  remained  abso- 
lutely as  if  I  had  neither  seen  nor  received  anything 
the  night  before.  I  was  satisfied  with  myself,  but 
he  was  very  sad.  Poor  man,  it  is  so  natural  in 
Spain  that  love  should  enter  by  the  window!  He 
came  between  the  acts  to  walk  about  the  corridors. 
The  First  Secretary  of  the  Spanish  Embassy  told 
me  of  it  in  relating  to  me  an  action  of  his  which  is 
sublime.  As  Due  de  Soria,  he  was  to  marry  one 
of  the  richest  heiresses  in  Spain,  the  young  Princess 
Marie  Heredia,  whose  fortune  would  have  softened 
for  him  the  rigors  of  exile;  but  it  appears  that, 


1 10  MEMOIRS  OF 

contrary  to  the  wishes  of  their  fathers  who  had  be- 
trothed them  in  childhood,  Marie  loved  the  youngest 
De  Soria,  and  my  Felipe  renounced  the  Princess 
Marie  in  allowing  himself  to  be  stripped  of  his  pos- 
sessions by  the  King  of  Spain. 

"He  must  have  done  this  fine  thing  very  sim- 
ply," I  said  to  the  young  man. 

"You  know  him  then?"  he  said  ingenuously. 

My  mother  smiled. 

"What  will  become  of  him  if  he  is  condemned  to 
death?"  I  said. 

"If  he  is  dead  in  Spain,  he  has  the  right  to  live 
in  Sardinia." 

"Ah!  there  are  also  tombs  in  Spain?"  I  said,  to 
appear  to  take  this  as  a  jest. 

"There  is  everything  in  Spain,  even  to  Spaniards 
of  the  old  time,"  my  mother  answered  me. 

"The  King  of  Sardinia,  not  without  some  diffi- 
culty, granted  to  the  Baron  de  Macumer  a  pass- 
port," resumed  the  young  diplomat;  "but  finally  he 
has  become  a  Sardinian  subject,  he  possesses  mag- 
nificent fiefs  in  Sardinia,  with  the  right  to  adminis- 
ter civil  and  criminal  justice.  He  has  a  palace  at 
Sassari.  If  Ferdinand  VII.  should  die,  Macumer 
would  probably  enter  into  diplomacy,  and  the  Court 
of  Turin  would  make  him  an  ambassador.  Although 
young,  he — " 

"Ah,  he  is  young?" 

"Yes,  Mademoiselle — although  young,  he  is  one 
of  the  most  distinguished  men  of  Spain." 

I  surveyed  the  audience  while  listening  to  the 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  III 

secretary,  and  seemed  to  lend  him  a  slight  atten- 
tion; but,  between  ourselves,  I  was  in  despair  at 
having  burned  the  letter.  How  would  such  a  man 
express  himself  when  he  loved?  and  he  loved  me. 
To  be  loved,  adored  in  secret,  to  have  in  this  audi- 
ence in  which  were  assembled  all  the  superiorities 
of  Paris  a  man  all  to  one's  self,  without  any  one 
knowing  it!  Oh  Renee,  I  comprehended  then  the 
Parisian  life,  and  its  balls  and  its  fetes!  Every- 
thing took  on  its  true  color  to  my  eyes.  One  has 
need  of  others  when  one  loves,  were  it  only  to  sac- 
rifice them  to  the  one  loved.  I  felt  within  my  be- 
ing another  being,  a  happy  one.  All  my  vanities, 
my  self-love,  my  pride,  were  flattered.  Heaven 
knows  what  looks  I  bestowed  upon  the  world  around 
me! 

"Ah,  sharp  little  one!"  said  the  duchess  in  my 
ear,  smiling. 

Yes,  my  very  crafty  mother  had  divined  some 
secret  joy  in  my  attitude,  and  I  lowered  my  flag 
before  this  knowing  woman.  These  three  words 
have  taught  me  more  of  the  science  of  the  world 
than  I  have  been  able  to  acquire  in  a  year,  for  we 
are  in  March.  Alas!  in  a  month  we  shall  have  no 
more  Italiens.  What  to  do  without  this  adorable 
music,  when  one's  heart  is  full  of  love? 

My  dear,  on  my  return,  with  a  resolution  worthy 
of  a  Chaulieu  I  opened  my  window  to  admire  a 
shower.  Oh !  if  men  knew  the  power  of  seduction 
which  heroic  actions  exercise  on  us,  they  would  be 
indeed  great;  the  most  cowardly  would  become 


112  MEMOIRS  OF 

heroes.  That  which  I  had  heard  of  my  Spaniard 
gave  me  a  fever.  I  was  sure  that  he  was  there, 
ready  to  send  me  a  new  letter.  Thus  I  burned 
nothing:  I  read.  Here  is  then  the  first  love  letter 
which  I  have  received,  madame  the  reasoner:  now 
each  has  one. 

"Louise,  I  do  not  love  you  because  of  your  sub- 
lime beauty;  I  do  not  love  you  because  of  the  wide 
range  of  your  intellect,  of  the  nobility  of  your  sen- 
timents, of  the  infinite  grace  which  you  give  to 
everything,  nor  because  of  your  pride,  of  your  royal 
disdain  for  that  which  is  not  of  your  sphere,  and 
which  in  you  does  not  exclude  goodness,  for  you 
have  the  charity  of  the  angels;  Louise,  I  love  you 
because  you  have  bent  all  these  haughty  gran- 
deurs for  a  poor  exile;  because,  by  a  gesture,  by  a 
look,  you  have  consoled  a  man  of  a  state  so  far  be- 
low you  that  he  had  right  only  to  your  pity,  but  to 
a  generous  pity.  You  are  the  only  woman  in  the 
world  who  has  tempered  for  me  the  rigor  of  her 
eyes;  and,  as  you  have  let  this  beneficent  regard 
fall  on  me  when  I  was  a  grain  in  the  dust,  some- 
thing which  I  had  never  obtained  when  I  had  all 
that  a  subject  could  have  of  power,  I  wish  to  let 
you  know,  Louise,  that  you  have  become  dear  to 
me,  that  I  love  you  for  yourself  and  without  any 
afterthought,  far  exceeding  in  so  doing  the  condi- 
tions placed  by  you  on  a  perfect  love.  Learn  then, 
idol  placed  by  me  in  the  highest  of  the  heavens, 
that  there  is  in  the  world  a  scion  of  the  Saracenic 


LOUISE  DE   CHAULIEU  AND    THE 
SPANIARD 


"  Mon  Dieu  !  does  he  think  that  I  have  left  my 
window  open  purposely .?"  /  said  to  myself;  "  to 
close  it  suddenly  would  be  '  to  make  myself  his 
confederate." 

I  did  better,  I  returned  to  my  window  as  if  I 
had  not  heard  the  sound  of  his  message,  as  if  I 
had  seen  nothing,  and  I  said  aloud : 

"  Come  and  see  the  stars,  Griffith .'" 

Griffith  was  sleeping  like  an  old  maid. 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  113 

race  whose  life  belongs  to  you,  of  whom  you  can 
demand  everything  as  of  a  slave,  and  who  will 
honor  himself  in  executing  your  orders.  I  have 
given  myself  to  you  without  return,  and  for  the 
sole  pleasure  of  giving  myself,  for  one  only  of  your 
looks,  for  that  hand  offered  one  morning  to  your 
Spanish  teacher.  You  have  a  servitor,  Louise,  and 
nothing  else.  No,  I  dare  not  think  that  I  can  ever 
be  loved;  but  perhaps  I  may  be  suffered,  and  solely 
because  of  my  devotion.  Since  that  morning  when 
you  smiled  upon  me  as  a  noble  young  girl  who 
divined  the  misery  of  my  solitary  and  betrayed 
heart,  I  have  enthroned  you:  you  are  the  absolute 
sovereign  of  my  life,  the  queen  of  my  thoughts,  the 
divinity  of  my  heart,  the  sunshine  which  enlightens 
me,  the  flower  of  my  flowers,  the  balm  of  the  air 
which  I  breathe,  the  richness  of  my  blood,  the  light 
in  which  I  sleep.  One  thought- only  troubles  this 
happiness, — that  you  do  not  know  that  you  have  for 
yourself  a  devotion  without  bounds,  a  faithful  arm, 
a  blind  slave,  a  mute  agent,  a  treasure,  for  I  am  no 
longer  anything  but  the  guardian  of  all  which  I  pos- 
sess; in  short,  that  you  do  not  know  of  a  heart  to 
which  you  could  confide  everything,  the  heart  of  an 
old  ancestress  of  whom  you  could  ask  anything,  a 
father  from  whom  you  could  claim  all  protection,  a 
friend,  a  brother;  all  these  sentiments  are  lacking 
around  you,  I  know  it.  I  have  surprised  the  secret 
of  your  isolation!  My  hardihood  is  born  of  my  de- 
sire to  reveal  to  you  the  extent  of  your  possessions. 
Accept  all,  Louise,  you  will  have  given  me  the  only 
8 


114  MEMOIRS  OF 

life  which  there  is  for  me  in  the  world,  that  of  de- 
voting myself.  In  placing  upon  me  the  collar  of 
servitude,  you  do  not  expose  yourself  to  anything: 
I  shall  never  demand  any  other  thing  than  the 
pleasure  of  knowing  myself  yours.  Do  not  even 
say  to  me  that  you  will  never  love  me:  that  should 
be  so,  I  know  it;  I  should  love  from  a  distance, 
without  hope  and  for  myself.  I  greatly  desire  to 
know  if  you  will  accept  me  for  your  servant,  and  I 
have  racked  my  brain  in  order  to  find  a  proof  which 
would  signify  it  and  which  will  in  no  way  impair 
your  dignity  in  informing  me,  for  I  have  now  been 
yours  for  many  days,  without  your  knowing  it. 
Then  you  will  say  it  to  me  by  having  in  your  hand 
in  the  evening,  at  the  Italiens,  a  bouquet  composed 
of  a  white  camellia  and  of  a  red  camellia,  the  image 
of  all  the  blood  of  a  man  at  the  orders  of  an  adored 
candor.  Everything  will  be  said  then:  at  any 
hour,  in  ten  years  as  to-morrow,  whatever  you  wish 
that  it  may  be  possible  for  a  man  to  do,  that  will 
be  done  as  soon  as  you  demand  it  of  your  happy 
servant, 

"FELIPE  HENAREZ." 


P.  S.  My  dear,  admit  that  the  grand  seigneurs 
know  how  to  love!  What  a  bound  of  an  African 
lion!  what  contained  ardor!  what  faith!  what  sin- 
cerity! what  a  grandeur  of  soul  in  abasement!  I 
felt  myself  little  and  I  asked  myself,  all  abashed: 
"What  to  do?" — The  quality  of  a  great  man  is  to 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  115 

set  aside  all  ordinary  calculations.  He  is  sublime 
and  affecting,  ingenuous  and  gigantic.  In  one  sole 
letter,  he  is  beyond  the  hundred  letters  of  Lovelace 
and  of  Saint-Preux.  Oh!  this  is  the  true  love, 
without  quibbling:  it  is  or  it  is  not;  but,  when  it 
is,  it  should  produce  itself  in  its  immensity.  Now, 
I  am  stripped  of  all  my  coquetries.  To  refuse  or  to 
accept!  1  am  between  these  two  alternatives  with- 
out a  pretext  to  shelter  my  irresolution.  All  dis- 
cussion is  suppressed.  It  is  no  longer  Paris,  it  is 
Spain  or  the  Orient;  in  short,  it  is  the  Abencerrage 
who  speaks,  who  kneels  before  the  Catholic  Eve 
bringing  to  her  his  scimitar,  his  horse  and  his  head. 
Shall  I  accept  this  last  of  the  Moors?  Read  over 
again  often  this  Hispano-Saracen  letter,  my  Renee, 
and  you  will  see  there  that  love  carries  away  all 
the  Judaic  stipulations  of  your  philosophy.  See, 
Renee,  I  have  your  letter  on, my  heart,  you  have 
made  life  all  bourgeois  for  me.  Have  I  any  need 
to  act  cunningly  ?  Am  I  not  eternal  mistress  of  this 
lion  who  changes  his  roarings  into  humble  and  re- 
ligious sighs?  Oh!  how  he  must  have  roared  in 
his  den  in  the  Rue  Hillerin-Bertin!  I  know  where 
he  lives,  I  have  his  card:  F.,  BARON  DE  MA- 
CUMER.  He  has  rendered  all  reply  impossible  for 
me,  there  is  nothing  to  be  done  but  to  throw  in  his 
face  two  camellias.  What  an  infernal  science  is 
possessed  by  love  pure,  true,  ingenuous !  See  then 
what  there  is  of  the  greatest  for  a  woman's  heart 
reduced  to  a  simple  and  easy  action.  Oh  Asia! 
1  have  read  The  Thousand  and  One  Nights,  and  here 


116  MEMOIRS  OF 

is  the  spirit  of  them:  two  flowers  and  all  is  said. 
We  traversed  the  fourteen  volumes  of  Clarissa  Har- 
lowe  with  a  bouquet  I  twist  myself  before  this 
letter  like  a  cord  in  the  fire.  Take  or  do  not  take 
your  two  camellias.  Yes  or  no,  kill  or  make  live! 
Finally,  a  voice  cried  to  me:  "Prove  him!"  Thus 
I  will  prove  him. 

XVI 

THE  SAME  TO  THE  SAME 

March. 

I  was  dressed  in  white:  I  had  white  camellias  in 
my  hair  and  a  white  camellia  in  my  hand;  my 
mother  had  red  ones, — I  could  take  one  from  her  if 
I  wished.  I  felt  within  myself  an  indescribable 
desire  to  sell  him  his  red  camellia  by  a  little  hesita- 
tion, and  not  to  make  my  decision  but  on  the  ground 
itself.  I  was  looking  my  very  best!  Griffith  en- 
treated me  to  let  her  contemplate  me  for  a  moment. 
The  solemnity  of  this  evening  and  the  drama  of  the 
secret  consent  gave  me  color,  I  had  on  each  cheek  a 
red  camellia  spread  upon  a  white  camellia! 

One  o'clock. 

All  the  world  admired  me,  one  only  adored  me. 
He  lowered  his  head  on  seeing  me  with  a  white 
camellia  in  the  hand,  and  I  saw  him  become  white 
as  the  flower  when  1  took  a  red  one  from  my 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  117 

mother.  To  have  come  with  the  two  flowers  might 
have  been  merely  accidental ;  but  this  action  was  a 
response.  I  had  then  emphasized  my  avowal ! 
They  were  giving  Romeo  and  Juliet,  and,  as  you  do 
not  know  the  duet  of  these  two  lovers,  you  cannot 
comprehend  the  happiness  of  two  neophytes  of  love 
listening  to  this  divine  expression  of  tenderness. 
As  I  went  to  bed  I  heard  steps  upon  the  resounding 
pavement  of  the  side  alley  of  the  boulevard.  Oh! 
now,  my  angel,  my  heart  is  on  fire  and  my  head. 
What  is  he  doing?  what  does  he  think?  Has  he  a 
thought,  one  only,  to  which  I  am  foreign?  Is  he  the 
slave  always  ready  which  he  told  me  he  was?  How 
to  assure  myself  of  it?  Has  he  in  his  soul  the 
slightest  suspicion  that  my  acceptance  carries  with 
it  anything  blamable,  any  return  whatever,  any 
thanks?  I  am  given  over  to  all  the  petty  quibbling 
of  the  women  in  Cyrus  and  in'  the  Astroea  to  the 
subtleties  of  the  Courts  of  Love.  Does  he  know 
that  in  love  the  very  slightest  actions  of  women  are 
the  result  of  a  world  of  reflection,  of  inward  com- 
bats, of  lost  victories!  Of  what  is  he  thinking  at 
this  moment?  How  to  order  him  to  write  to  me  in 
the  evening  the  details  of  his  day  ?  He  is  my  slave, 
I  should  keep  him  occupied  and  1  am  going  to  over- 
whelm him  with  labor. 

Sunday  morning. 

I  slept  very  little  this  morning.  It  is  noon.  I 
have  just  caused  Griffith  to  write  the  following 
letter: 


Il8  MEMOIRS  OF 

"TO  MONSIEUR  LE  BARON  DE  MACUMER. 

"Mademoiselle  de  Chaulieu  directs  me,  Monsieur 
le  Baron,  to  ask  of  you  the  copy  of  a  letter  which 
was  written  to  her  by  one  of  her  friends,  which  is  in 
her  handwriting  and  which  you  have  taken  away. 

"Accept,  etc. 

"GRIFFITH." 

My  dear,  Griffith  went  out,  she  went  to  the  Rue 
Hillerin-Bertin,  she  had  this  billet-doux  handed  to 
my  slave,  who  returned  me  in  an  envelope  my  pro- 
gramme spotted  with  tears.  He  obeyed.  Oh  my 
dear,  he  ought  to  have  kept  it  Another  would 
have  refused  in  writing  to  me  a  letter  full  of  flat- 
tery; but  the  Saracen  has  been  what  he  promised  to 
be, — he  obeyed.  I  am  affected  to  the  point  of  tears. 

XVII 

THE  SAME  TO  THE  SAME 

April  2. 

Yesterday  the  weather  was  magnificent,  I  arrayed 
myself  like  a  young  girl  who  is  beloved  and  who 
wishes  to  please.  At  my  entreaty,  my  father  has 
given  me  the  prettiest  turnout  that  it  is  possible  to 
see  in  Paris, — two  dapple-gray  horses  and  a  caleche 
of  the  utmost  elegance.  I  tried  my  new  equipage. 
I  was  like  a  flower  under  an  umbrella  lined  with 
white  silk.  As  I  ascended  the  avenue  of  the  Champs- 
Elysees,  I  saw  coming  toward  me  my  Abencerrage 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  119 

on  a  horse  of  the  most  admirable  beauty, — the  men, 
who  now-a-days  are  almost  all  perfect  horse  dealers, 
stopped  to  see  it,  to  examine  it.  He  bowed  to  me, 
and  I  made  to  him  a  friendly  sign  of  encouragement; 
he  moderated  the  pace  of  his  horse,  and  I  was  able 
to  say  to  him : 

"You  will  not  take  it  ill,  Monsieur  le  Baron,  that  I 
have  asked  my  letter  of  you,  it  was  useless  for  you. — 
You  have  already  exceeded  this  programme, — "  I 
added  in  a  low  voice.  "You  have  a  horse  which 
causes  you  to  be  much  remarked,"  I  said  to  him. 

"My  intendant  in  Sardinia  sent  it  to  me  through 
pride,  for  this  horse  of  the  Arab  race  was  born  in 
my  stable." 

This  morning,  my  dear,  Henarez  was  on  an 
English  sorrel  horse,  still  a  very  handsome  one  but 
which  no  longer  attracted  attention,— the  slight 
mocking  criticism  of  my  words  had  been  sufficient. 
He  bowed  to  me,  and  I  replied  by  a  slight  inclina- 
tion of  the  head.  The  Due  d'Angoule"me  has  bought 
Macumer's  horse.  My  slave  comprehended  that  he 
had  departed  from  the  desired  simplicity  in  attract- 
ing to  himself  the  attention  of  the  gazers.  A  man 
should  be  remarked  for  himself,  and  not  for  his 
horse  or  for  other  things.  To  have  a  too  handsome 
horse  seems  to  me  as  ridiculous  as  to  wear  a  big 
diamond  in  his  shirt  front.  I  was  delighted  to  catch 
him  in  a  fault,  and  perhaps  there  was  in  his  act  a 
little  self-love,  permissible  in  a  poor  outlaw.  This 
childishness  pleases  me.  O  my  ancient  reasoner! 
do  you  amuse  yourself  with  my  love  affairs  as  much 


120  MEMOIRS  OF 

as  I  am  saddened  by  your  sombre  philosophy  ?  Dear 
Philip  II.  in  petticoats,  do  you  truly  go  riding  in 
my  caleche  ?  Do  you  see  this  velvet  glance,  hum- 
ble and  expressive,  proud  of  its  servitude,  which  is 
directed  to  me  in  passing  by  this  man  truly  great 
who  wears  my  livery,  and  who  has  always  in  his 
buttonhole  a  red  camellia,  whilst  I  have  always  a 
white  one  in  my  hand?  What  enlightenment  comes 
with  love!  How  well  I  comprehend  Paris!  Now, 
everything  in  it  seems  to  me  spiritual  and  intelli- 
gent. Yes,  love  is  there  more  beautiful,  grander, 
more  charming  than  anywhere  else.  Decidedly,  I 
have  recognized  that  I  could  never  torment,  disquiet 
a  stupid  man,  nor  have  the  least  empire  over  him. 
It  is  only  the  superior  men  who  comprehend  us 
thoroughly  and  on  whom  we  can  act.  Oh!  poor 
friend,  forgive  me,  I  have  forgotten  our  L'Estorade; 
but  have  you  not  told  me  that  you  are  going  to 
make  a  genius  of  him?  Oh!  I  guess  why, — you 
are  bringing  him  up  with  the  utmost  care  so  that 
you  may  be  comprehended  some  day.  Adieu,  I  am 
a  little  foolish  and  do  not  wish  to  continue. 


XVIII 
MADAME  DE  L'ESTORADE  TO  LOUISE  DE  CHAULIEU 

April. 

Dear  angel,  or  should  I  not  rather  say,  dear  demon  ? 
you  have  distressed  me  without  wishing  to,  and  if 
we  were  not  the  same  soul,  I  would  say  wounded; 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  121 

but  does  one  not  also  wound  one's  self?  How 
readily  it  is  to  be  seen  that  you  have  not  yet  seri- 
ously considered  that  word  indissoluble  applied  to 
the  contract  which  unites  a  woman  to  a  man !  I  do 
not  wish  to  contradict  the  philosophers  nor  the  legis- 
lators, they  are  quite  able  to  contradict  them- 
selves; but,  dear,  by  rendering  marriage  irrevocable 
and  by  imposing  upon  it  a  formula  the  same  for  all 
and  pitiless,  each  union  has  been  made  an  entirely 
dissimilar  thing,  as  dissimilar  as  are  the  individuals 
among  themselves;  each  one  of  them  has  its  interior 
laws  different, — those  of  a  marriage  in  the  country, 
where  the  two  beings  are  ceaselessly  in  each  other's 
presence,  are  not  those  of  a  city  household,  where 
life  is  marked  by  more  distractions;  and  those  of  a 
household  in  Paris,  where  life  passes  like  a  torrent, 
will  not  be  those  of  a  provincial  marriage  where 
life  is  less  agitated.  If  the  conditions  vary  accord- 
ing to  the  localities,  they  vary  still  more  according 
to  the  characters.  The  wife  of  a  man  of  genius  has 
only  to  allow  himself  to  be  conducted,  and  the  wife 
of  a  foolish  man  should,  under  penalty  of  the  great- 
est misfortunes,  assume  the  direction  of  the  machine 
if  she  feels  herself  more  intelligent  than  he.  Per- 
haps, after  all,  it  is  reflection  and  reason  which  ar- 
rive at  that  which  we  call  depravation.  For  us, 
depravation,  is  it  not  the  introduction  of  calculation 
into  the  feelings?  A  passion  which  reasons  is 
depraved ;  it  is  only  beautiful  when  involuntary  and 
in  those  sublime  outbursts  which  exclude  all  ego- 
tism. Ah!  sooner  or  later  you  will  say,  my  dear: 


122  MEMOIRS  OF 

"Yes!  falsehood  is  as  necessary  to  the  woman  as 
her  corset,  if  by  falsehood  is  understood  the  silence 
of  her  who  has  the  courage  not  to  speak,  if  by  false- 
hood is  understood  the  forethought  necessary  for  the 
future."  Every  married  woman  learns  at  her  own 
expense  the  social  laws,  which  are  incompatible  in 
many  respects  with  those  of  nature.  We  could 
have  in  marriage  a  dozen  children,  by  marrying  at 
our  present  age;  and,  if  we  had  them,  we  would 
commit  a  dozen  crimes,  we  would  make  a  dozen 
misfortunes.  Would  we  not  be  delivering  to  pov- 
erty and  to  despair  charming  beings?  whilst  two 
children  are  two  happinesses,  two  benefits,  two 
creatures  in  harmony  with  the  moral  and  the  actual 
laws.  The  natural  law  and  the  code  are  enemies, 
and  we  are  the  ground  on  which  they  combat 
Would  you  call  depravation  the  wisdom  of  the  wife 
who  watches  to  see  that  the  family  does  not  ruin 
itself  by  itself?  One  calculation  or  a  thousand,  all 
is  lost  for  the  heart.  This  atrocious  calculation, 
you  will  make  it  one  day  yourself,  beautiful  Ba- 
ronne  de  Macumer,  when  you  will  be  the  happy  and 
proud  wife  of  the  man  whom  you  adore ;  or  rather 
this  superior  man  will  spare  you  the  trouble  of  it, 
for  he  will  make  it  himself.  You  see,  dear  foolish 
one,  that  we  have  studied  the  code  in  its  relations 
with  conjugal  love.  You  will  know  that  we  are 
accountable  only  to  God  and  to  ourselves  for  the 
means  which  we  employ  to  perpetuate  happiness  in 
the  bosom  of  our  households;  and  it  is  much  better 
that  calculation  should  direct  there  than  unreflecting 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  123 

love,  which  brings  there  mourning,  quarrels  or 
disunion.  I  have  cruelly  studied  the  role  of  wife 
and  of  mother  of  family.  Yes,  dear  angel,  we  have 
sublime  falsehoods  to  act  in  order  to  be  the  noble 
creature  that  we  are  in  fulfilling  our  duties.  You 
tax  me  with  falsehood  because  I  wish  to  measure 
out  day  by  day  to  Louis  the  knowledge  of  myself; 
but  is  it  not  a  too  intimate  acquaintance  which 
causes  disunions?  I  wish  to  occupy  him  much,  in 
order  to  distract  him  a  great  deal  from  myself,  in 
the  name  of  his  own  proper  happiness;  and  such  is 
not  the  calculation  of  passion.  If  tenderness  is  in- 
exhaustible, love  is  not:  thus  it  is  a  worthy  under- 
taking for  an  honest  woman  to  distribute  it  sagely 
through  all  her  life.  At  the  risk  of  seeming  to  you 
execrable,  I  will  say  to  you  that  I  persist  in  my 
principles,  believing  myself  very  great  and  very 
generous.  Virtue,  mignonne,  'is  a  principle  the 
manifestations  of  which  differ  according  to  the  sur- 
roundings: the  virtue  of  Provence,  that  of  Constan- 
tinople, that  of  London  and  that  of  Paris  present 
effects  perfectly  dissimilar  without  ceasing  to  be 
virtue.  Each  human  life  offers  in  its  tissue  the 
most  irregular  combinations;  but,  seen  from  a  cer- 
tain height,  all  resemble  each  other.  If  I  wish  to 
see  Louis  unhappy  and  bring  about  a  bodily  separa- 
tion, I  would  only  have  to  follow  in  his  leash.  I 
have  not  had,  like  you,  the  happiness  of  encounter- 
ing a  superior  being,  but  perhaps  I  shall  have  the 
pleasure  of  rendering  him  superior,  and  I  give  you 
a  rendezvous  in  Paris  in  five  years.  You  will  be 


124  MEMOIRS  OF 

taken  in  yourself,  and  you  will  tell  me  that  I  have 
deceived  myself,  that  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade  is  in- 
trinsically remarkable.  As  to  those  beautiful 
loves,  to  those  emotions  which  I  only  experience 
through  you ;  as  to  those  nocturnal  stations  on  the 
balcony,  in  the  light  of  the  stars;  as  to  those  ex- 
cessive adorations,  as  to  those  deifications  of  our- 
selves, I  have  learned  that  it  is  necessary  to 
renounce  them.  Your  glowing  expansion  in  life 
radiates  around  you  at  your  own  pleasure;  mine  is 
circumscribed,  it  has  the  bounding  wall  of  La 
Crampade :  and  you  reproach  me  with  the  precau- 
tions which  a  fragile,  a  secret,  a  poor  happiness  de- 
mands in  order  to  become  durable,  rich  and 
mysterious!  I  thought  I  had  found  the  graces  of  a 
mistress  in  my  estate  of  a  wife,  and  you  have 
almost  made  me  blush  for  myself.  Between  us  two, 
which  is  wrong,  which  is  right?  Perhaps  we  are 
both  equally  right  and  wrong,  and  perhaps  society 
sells  us  very  dearly  our  laces,  our  titles  and  our 
children!  For  myself,  I  have  my  red  camellias, 
they  are  on  my  lips,  in  smiles  which  flourish  for 
those  two  beings,  the  father  and  the  son,  to  whom 
I  am  devoted,  at  once  slave  and  mistress.  But, 
dear,  your  last  letters  have  caused  me  to  perceive 
all  that  I  have  lost!  You  have  taught  me  the  ex- 
tent of  the  sacrifices  of  a  married  woman.  I  had 
scarcely  cast  my  eyes  on  those  beautiful  wild 
meadows  in  which  you  leap  and  sport,  and  I  will 
not  speak  to  you  of  some  tears  dried  in  reading 
your  letter;  but  regret  is  not  remorse,  although  it 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  12$ 

is  somewhat  related.  You  have  said  to  me :  "Mar- 
riage renders  philosophical!"  Alas!  no;  I  have 
truly  felt  it  when  I  wept  in  knowing  you  carried 
away  by  the  torrent  of  love.  But  my  father  has 
caused  me  to  read  one  of  the  most  profound  writers 
of  our  provinces,  one  of  the  heirs  of  Bossuet,  one  of 
those  cruel  politicians  whose  pages  beget  conviction. 
While  you  were  reading  Corinne,  I  was  reading  Bo- 
nald,  and  this  is  the  secret  of  my  philosophy, — the 
Family,  holy  and  strong,  appeared  before  me. 
Therefore,  according  to  Bonald,  your  father  was 
right  in  his  discourse.  Adieu,  my  dear  imagina- 
tion, my  friend,  you  who  are  my  folly! 

XIX 

LOUISE  DE  CHAULIEU  TO  MADAME  DE  L'ESTORADE 

Well,  you  are  a  love  of  a  woman,  my  Renee;  and 
I  will  now  agree  that  it  is  honest  to  deceive, — are 
you  content?  Moreover,  the  man  who  loves  us  be- 
longs to  us;  we  have  the  right  to  make  of  him  a 
fool  or  a  man  of  genius;  but  between  ourselves,  we 
oftener  make  of  him  a  fool.  You  will  make  of 
yours  a  man  of  genius,  and  you  will  keep  your 
secret, — two  magnificent  actions!  Ah!  if  there 
were  no  paradise,  you  would  pay  dearly,  for  you 
are  vowing  yourself  to  a  voluntary  martyrdom. 
You  wish  to  make  him  ambitious  and  to  keep 
him  loving!  but,  child  that  you  are,  it  is  quite 
enough  to  keep  him  loving.  Up  to  what  point  is 


126  MEMOIRS  OF 

calculation  virtue  or  is  virtue  calculation?  Hein? 
We  will  not  quarrel  on  this  point,  since  there  is 
Donald.  We  are  and  wish  to  be  virtuous;  but  at 
this  moment  I  believe  that,  notwithstanding  your 
charming  knaveries,  you  are  better  than  I.  Yes,  I 
am  a  young  woman  horribly  false:  I  love  Felipe 
and  I  hide  it  from  him  with  an  infamous  dissimu- 
lation. I  would  wish  to  see  him  leap  from  his  tree 
to  the  top  of  the  wall,  from  the  top  of  the  wall  to 
my  balcony;  and,  if  he  did  as  I  wish,  I  would  over- 
whelm him  with  my  scorn.  You  see,  I  am  of  a  ter- 
rible honesty.  Who  hinders  me?  what  mysterious 
power  prevents  me  from  telling  this  dear  Felipe  all 
the  happiness  which  he  communicates  to  me  in 
floods  by  his  love  pure,  entire,  grand,  secret,  com- 
plete ?  Madame  de  Mirbel  is  executing  my  portrait, 
I  intend  to  give  it  to  him,  my  dear.  That  which 
surprises  me  each  day  the  more  is  the  activity 
which  love  gives  to  life.  What  an  interest  do  the 
hours  take  on,  the  actions,  the  smallest  things!  and 
what  an  admirable  blending  of  the  past,  of  the 
future,  in  the  present!  One  lives  in  the  three 
tenses  of  the  verb.  Is  it  still  so  when  one  has 
been  happy?  Oh!  answer  me,  tell  me  what  is 
happiness,  if  it  calms  or  if  it  irritates.  I  am  of  a 
mortal  uneasiness,  I  know  no  longer  how  to 
conduct  myself:  there  is  in  my  heart  a  force  which 
attracts  me  towards  him,  notwithstanding  reason 
and  the  conventionalities.  Finally,  I  understand 
your  curiosity  with  Louis,  are  you  content?  The 
happiness  which  Felipe  has  in  being  mine,  his 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  127 

distant  love  and  his  obedience  make  me  impatient  as 
much  as  his  profound  respect  irritated  me  when  he 
was  only  my  Spanish  teacher.  I  am  tempted  to 
call  to  him  when  he  passes:  "Imbecile,  if  you  love 
me  as  a  picture,  what  would  it  be  then  if  you  knew 
me!" 

Oh  Renee,  you  burn  my  letters,  do  you  not?  For 
myself,  I  will  burn  yours.  If  other  eyes  than  ours 
should  read  these  thoughts  which  are  poured  from 
heart  to  heart,  I  would  send  Felipe  to  crush  them 
and  to  kill  a  few  more  people  for  still  greater 
surety. 

Monday. 

Ah!  Renee,  how  shall  we  sound  the  heart  of  a 
man?  My  father  should  present  to  me  your  Mon- 
sieur Bonald,  and,  since  he  is  so  wise,  I  will  ask 
it  of  him.  God  is  very  happy  to  be  able  to  read 
the  depths  of  the  heart.  Shall  I  always  bean  angel 
for  this  man  ?  That  is  the  whole  question. 

If  ever  in  a  gesture,  in  a  look,  in  the  accent  of  a 
word,  I  should  perceive  a  diminution  of  that  respect 
which  he  had  for  me  when  he  was  my  teacher  of 
Spanish,  I  feel  myself  strong  enough  to  forget  every- 
thing! "Wherefore  these  great  words,  these  grand 
resolutions?"  you  will  say  to  me.  Ah!  for  this 
reason,  my  dear.  My  charming  father,  who  con- 
ducts himself  toward  me  like  an  old  cavaliere  ser- 
vente  with  an  Italian  lady,  has  had,  as  I  told  you, 
my  portrait  executed  by  Madame  de  Mirbel.  I 
have  found  means  to  have  a  sufficiently  good  copy 


128  MEMOIRS  OF 

executed  to  be  able  to  give  it  to  the  duke  and  to 
send  the  original  to  Felipe.  This  sending  was  done 
yesterday,  accompanied  by  these  three  lines: 

"Don  Felipe,  your  entire  devotion  is  answered  by 
a  blind  confidence:  time  will  say  whether  it  is  not 
to  accord  too  much  grandeur  to  a  man." 

The  recompense  is  great,  it  has  the  air  of  a 
promise,  and,  horrible  thing,  an  invitation;  but, 
what  will  seem  to  you  still  more  horrible,  I  wish 
that  the  recompense  should  express  promise  and  in- 
vitation without  going  so  far  as  to  offer  them.  If  in 
his  reply  there  is:  "My  Louise,"  or  only: 
"Louise"  he  is  lost! 

Tuesday. 

No,  he  is  not  lost!  This  constitutional  minister 
is  an  adorable  lover.  Here  is  his  letter: 

"Every  moment  which  I  pass  without  seeing  you 
I  remain  occupied  with  you,  my  eyes  closed  to  all 
things  and  fixed  in  meditation  upon  your  image, 
which  never  revealed  itself  with  sufficient  prompt- 
ness in  the  dusky  palace  traversed  by  dreams  and 
in  which  you  diffuse  light.  Henceforth  my  sight 
shall  repose  on  this  marvelous  ivory,  on  this  talis- 
man, I  should  say:  for  me,  your  blue  eyes  become 
animated,  and  the  painting  immediately  becomes  a 
reality.  The  delay  of  this  letter  is  owing  to  my 
eagerness  to  enjoy  this  contemplation  during  which 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  129 

I  would  say  to  you  all  that  I  should  keep  silent  on. 
Yes,  since  yesterday,  shut  up  alone  with  you  I  have 
given  myself  up,  for  the  first  time  in  my  life,  to  a 
happiness  complete,  entire,  infinite.  If  you  could 
see  where  I  have  placed  you,  between  the  Virgin 
and  God,  you  would  comprehend  in  what  agonies  I 
have  passed  the  night;  but  in  telling  you,  I  would 
not  wish  to  offend  you,  for  there  would  be  so  many 
torments  for  me  in  a  look  deprived  of  that  angelic 
goodness  which  makes  me  live,  that  I  ask  pardon  of 
you  in  advance.  If  then,  queen  of  my  life  and  of 
my  soul,  you  would  but  grant  me  a  thousandth 
part  of  the  love  I  bear  for  you! 

"The  if  of  this  constant  prayer  has  ravaged  my 
soul.  I  was  between  belief  and  error,  between  life 
and  death,  between  the  darkness  and  the  light 
A  criminal  is  not  more  agitated  during  the  discus- 
sion of  his  doom  than  I  am  in  accusing  myself  to 
you  of  this  audacity.  The  smile  expressed  on  your 
lips,  and  which  I  have  seen  again  from  moment  to 
moment,  calmed  these  storms  aroused  by  the  fear  of 
displeasing  you.  During  my  lifetime,  no  one,  not 
even  my  mother,  has  ever  smiled  upon  me.  The 
beautiful  young  girl  who  was  destined  for  me  re- 
jected my  heart  and  loved  my  brother.  My  efforts 
in  politics  met  with  only  defeat.  I  have  never  seen 
in  the  eyes  of  my  king  anything  but  a  desire  for 
vengeance ;  and  we  have  been  such  enemies,  since 
our  youth,  that  he  considered  the  vote  by  which 
the  Cortes  elected  me  to  power  as  a  cruel  injury. 
However  strong  you  may  make  the  soul,  doubt  at 
9 


130  MEMOIRS  OF 

least  will  enter  it.  Moreover,  I  am  just  to  myself; 
— I  know  the  bad  grace  of  my  exterior,  and  know 
how  difficult  it  is  to  appreciate  my  heart  through 
such  an  envelope.  To  be  beloved,  it  was  no  longer 
anything  but  a  dream  when  I  saw  you.  Thus, 
when  I  attached  myself  to  you,  I  comprehended  that 
devotion  alone  could  excuse  my  tenderness.  In  con- 
templating this  portrait,  in  watching  this  smile  full 
of  divine  promises,  a  hope  which  I  did  not  permit 
myself  has  irradiated  my  soul.  This  light  of  the 
morning  is  incessantly  combated  by  the  shadows  of 
doubt,  by  the  fear  of  offending  you  in  letting  it  ap- 
pear. No,  you  cannot  yet  love  me,  I  feel  it;  but, 
in  proportion  as  you  will  have  experienced  the 
power,  the  duration,  the  extent  of  my  inexhaustible 
affection,  you  will  give  it  a  little  place  in  your 
heart  If  my  ambition  is  an  insult,  you  will  tell 
me  so  without  anger,  I  will  return  to  my  part;  but, 
if  you  would  wish  to  endeavor  to  love  me,  do  not 
let  it  be  known  without  minute  precautions  to  him 
who  puts  all  the  happiness  of  his  life  in  only  serv- 
ing you." 

My  dear,  on  reading  these  last  words,  I  seemed  to 
see  him  pale  as  he  was  the  evening  in  which  I  said 
to  him,  in  showing  him  the  camellia,  that  I  accepted 
the  treasures  of  his  devotion.  I  saw  in  these  sub- 
missive phrases  something  quite  different  from  a 
simple  flower  of  flattery  in  the  manner  of  lovers, 
and  I  felt  something  like  a  great  movement  within 
myself, — the  breath  of  happiness. 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  131 

The  weather  was  detestable,  it  was  not  possible 
for  me  to  go  to  the  Bois  without  giving  rise  to 
strange  suspicions ;  for  my  mother  who  often  goes 
out  notwithstanding  the  rain,  remained  in  her  own 
apartments,  alone. 

Wednesday  evening. 

I  have  just  seen  him,  at  the  Opera.  My  dear,  he 
is  no  longer  the  same  man:  he  came  into  our  box, 
presented  by  the  Sardinian  ambassador.  After 
having  seen  in  my  eyes  that  his  audacity  did  not 
displease,  he  seemed  to  me  as  though  he  were  bodily 
embarrassed  and  he  said  Mademoiselle  to  the  Mar- 
quise d'Espard.  His  eyes  shed  glances  which 
made  a  light  more  vivid  than  that  of  the  sconces. 
Finally  he  went  out,  like  a  man  who  feared  to  com- 
mit an  extravagance. 

"The  Baron  de  Macumer  is  in  love!"  said  Ma- 
dame de  Maufrigneuse  to  my  mother. 

"That  is  all  the  more  extraordinary  as  he  is  a 
fallen  minister,"  replied  my  mother. 

I  had  the  strength  to  look  at  Madame  d'Espard, 
Madame  de  Maufrigneuse,  and  my  mother  with  the 
curiosity  of  one  who  does  not  know  a  foreign  lan- 
guage and  who  wishes  to  know  what  is  said ;  but  I 
was  inwardly  a  prey  to  a  voluptuous  joy  in  which 
it  seemed  to  me  that  my  soul  was  bathed.  There 
is  only  one  word  to  explain  to  you  that  which  I  felt, 
that  is  ravishment.  Felipe  loves  so  much,  that  I 
find  him  worthy  of  being  loved.  I  am  exactly  the 
principle  of  his  life,  and  I  hold  in  my  hand  the 


132  MEMOIRS  OF 

thread  which  conducts  his  thoughts.  Finally,  if 
we  must  tell  everything  to  each  other,  there  is 
within  me  the  most  violent  desire  to  see  him  over- 
come all  obstacles,  to  come  to  me  to  ask  me  of  my- 
self, in  order  to  know  if  this  furious  love  would 
become  humble  and  calm  before  only  one  of  my 
glances. 

Ah!  my  dear,  1  have  stopped  and  am  all  trem- 
bling. While  writing  to  you,  I  heard  outside  a  si  ight 
noise  and  I  rose.  From  my  window,  I  saw  him 
walking  along  the  crest  of  the  wall,  at  the  risk  of 
killing  himself.  I  went  to  the  window  of  my  cham- 
ber and  I  made  him  only  one  sign;  he  leaped  from 
the  wall,  which  is  ten  feet  high;  then  he  ran  out 
on  the  road,  just  so  far  that  I  could  see  him,  to  show 
me  that  he  had  not  hurt  himself.  This  attention, 
at  the  moment  when  he  must  have  been  dazed  by 
his  fall,  so  much  affected  me,  that  I  wept  without 
knowing  why.  Poor  ugly  fellow!  what  did  he 
come  to  seek  ?  what  did  he  wish  to  say  to  me  ? 

I  do  not  dare  to  write  my  thoughts,  and  I  am  go- 
ing to  bed  in  my  joy,  thinking  of  everything  we 
would  say  to  each  other  if  we  were  together.  Fare- 
well, beautiful  mute.  I  have  not  the  time  to  com- 
plain to  you  of  your  silence,  but  here  it  is  more 
than  a  month  since  I  have  had  any  news  of  you ! 
Have  you,  by  chance,  become  happy?  Have  you 
no  longer  that  free  will  which  rendered  you  so 
proud  and  which,  this  evening,  has  almost  aban- 
doned me  ? 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  133 

XX 

RENEE  DE  L'ESTORADE  TO  LOUISE    DE    CHAULIEU 

May. 

If  love  is  the  life  of  the  world,  why  do  the 
austere  philosophers  suppress  it  in  marriage  ?  Why 
does  society  take  for  its  supreme  law  the  sacrifice 
of  the  Woman  to  the  Family,  thus  necessarily  cre- 
ating a  hidden  struggle  in  the  heart  of  marriage?  a 
struggle  foreseen  by  it  and  so  dangerous,  that  it 
has  invented  powers  to  arm  the  man  against  us, 
divining  that  we  could  annul  everything  either  by 
the  power  of  tenderness  or  by  the  persistence  of  a 
hidden  hatred.  I  see  at  this  moment,  in  marriage, 
two  opposing  forces  which  the  legislator  should  have 
re-united;  when  will  they  be  re-united?  that  is 
what  I  said  to  myself  while  reading  your  letter. 
Oh !  dear,  one  only  of  your  letters  ruins  that  edifice 
built  by  the  great  writer  of  L'Aveyron,  and  in 
which  I  had  taken  up  my  residence  with  a  gentle 
satisfaction!  Laws  have  been  made  by  old  men, 
the  women  perceive  it;  they  have  very  sagely  de- 
creed that  conjugal  love  exempt  from  passion  should 
not  debase  us,  and  that  a  woman  should  give  her- 
self without  love  once  the  law  permitted  a  man  to 
make  her  his.  Preoccupied  with  the  family,  they 
have  imitated  nature,  anxious  only  to  perpetuate 
the  species.  I  was  a  being  formerly,  and  I  am  now 
a  thing!  It  is  more  than  one  tear  that  I  have  shed 
apart,  alone,  and  which  I  would  wish  to  give  in 


134  MEMOIRS  OF 

exchange  for  a  consoling  smile.  From  whence  comes 
the  inequality  of  our  destinies  ?  Lawful  love  makes 
your  soul  greater.  For  you,  virtue  is  to  be  found 
in  pleasure.  You  will  only  suffer  of  your  own  free 
will.  Your  duty,  if  you  marry  your  Felipe,  will 
become  the  sweetest,  the  most  expansive  of  senti- 
ments. Our  future  is  big  with  the  reply,  and  1  am 
waiting  for  it  with  an  unquiet  curiosity. 

You  love,  you  are  adored.  Oh,  dear,  give  your- 
self up  entirely  to  this  beautiful  poem  which  has  so 
much  occupied  us !  This  beauty  of  the  woman,  so 
fine  and  so  spiritualized  in  you,  God  has  made  it 
thus  that  it  might  charm  and  please:  he  has  his 
designs.  Yes,  my  angel,  guard  well  the  secret  of 
your  tenderness,  and  submit  Felipe  to  the  subtle 
proofs  which  we  invented  to  know  if  the  lover 
whom  we  dreamed  of  should  be  worthy  of  us. 
Above  all,  know  rather  if  you  love  him  than  if  he 
loves  you:  nothing  is  more  deceiving  than  the  mi- 
rage produced  in  our  soul  by  curiosity,  by  desire,  by 
belief  in  happiness.  You  who,  alone  of  us  two, 
remain  intact,  dear,  do  not  risk  yourself  without 
security  in  the  dangerous  bargain  of  an  irrevocable 
marriage,  I  entreat  you!  Sometimes  a  gesture,  a 
word,  a  look,  in  a  conversation  without  witnesses, 
when  the  souls  are  stripped  of  their  worldly  hypoc- 
risy, will  light  up  abysses.  You  are  sufficiently 
noble,  sufficiently  sure  of  yourself,  to  be  able  to 
enter  courageously  in  paths  where  others  lose  them- 
selves. You  cannot  imagine  in  what  anxieties  I 
am.  Notwithstanding  the  distance,  I  see  you,  I 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  135 

experience  all  your  emotions.  Therefore,  do  not  fail 
to  write  me,  omit  nothing!  Your  letters  make  for 
me  a  passionate  life  in  the  midst  of  my  household  so 
simple,  so  tranquil,  all  alike  as  a  highroad  on  a  sun- 
less day.  That  which  takes  place  here,  my  angel,  is  a 
series  of  quibblings  with  myself  concerning  which  I 
wish  to  keep  the  secret  to-day,  I  will  tell  you  about 
it  later.  I  give  myself,  and  take  myself  back  with 
a  sombre  pertinacity,  passing  from  discouragement 
to  hope.  Perhaps  I  have  asked  of  life  more  happi- 
ness than  it  owes  us.  At  a  youthful  age  we  are 
only  too  easily  led  to  wish  that  the  ideal  and  the 
positive  should  be  in  accord!  My  reflections,  and 
now  I  make  them  all  alone,  seated  at  the  foot  of  a 
rock  in  my  park,  have  led  me  to  think  that  love  in 
marriage  is  a  chance  on  which  it  is  impossible  to 
base  the  law  which  should  govern  all.  My  phil- 
osopher of  L'Aveyron  is  right  to  consider  the  family 
as  the  sole  possible  social  unity  and  to  submit  the 
woman  to  it  as  she  has  been  in  all  times.  The 
solution  of  this  great  question,  almost  terrible  for 
us,  is  in  the  first  child  which  we  have.  Thus 
would  I  wish  to  be  a  mother,  were  it  only  to  give 
food  to  the  devouring  activity  of  my  soul. 

Louis  is  always  of  an  adorable  goodness,  his  love 
is  active  and  my  tenderness  is  abstract;  he  is 
happy,  he  gathers  for  himself  alone  the  flowers,  with- 
out concerning  himself  with  the  efforts  of  the  earth 
that  produces  them.  Happy  egotism!  Whatever 
it  may  cost  me,  I  lend  myself  to  his  illusions,  as  a 
mother,  according  to  the  ideas  which  I  have  of  a 


136  MEMOIRS  OF 

mother,  sacrifices  herself  to  procure  a  pleasure  for 
her  child.  His  joy  is  so  profound  that  it  closes  his 
eyes  and  throws  its  reflections  even  upon  me.  I 
deceive  him  by  the  smile  or  by  the  look  full  of  sat- 
isfaction which  the  certainty  of  giving  him  happi- 
ness causes  me.  Thus,  the  friendly  appellation 
which  I  give  him  in  our  home  is  "my  child!"  I 
am  waiting  for  the  fruit  of  so  many  sacrifices  which 
shall  be  a  secret  between  God,  yourself  and  me. 
Maternity  is  an  undertaking  for  which  I  have  opened 
an  enormous  credit,  it  owes  me  too  much  to-day,  I 
fear  I  shall  not  be  sufficiently  paid:  its  charge  is  to 
develop  all  my  energy  and  to  make  my  heart 
greater,  to  recompense  me  for  unlimited  joys.  O 
my  God,  may  I  not  be  deceived!  in  it  lies  all  my 
future,  and,  a  frightful  thing  to  think,  that  of  my 
virtue. 

XXI 
LOUISE   DE  CHAULIEU  TO  RENEE  DE  L'ESTORADE 

June. 

Dear  married  lamb,  your  letter  came  very  apropos 
to  enable  me  to  justify  to  myself  a  hardihood  of 
which  I  have  been  thinking  night  and  day.  There 
is  an  unspeakable  appetite  in  me  for  things  un- 
known, or,  if  you  like,  forbidden,  which  disquiets 
me  and  reveals  to  me  a  combat  within  me  between 
the  laws  of  the  world  and  those  of  nature.  I  do  not 
know  if  nature  is  stronger  within  me  than  society, 
but  I  surprised  myself  by  concluding  a  transaction 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  137 

between  these  two  powers.  In  short,  to  speak 
clearly,  I  wished  to  talk  with  Felipe,  alone  with 
him,  during  an  hour  of  the  night,  under  the  linden 
trees,  at  the  end  of  our  garden.  Assuredly  this 
wish  is  natural  in  a  girl  who  deserves  the  name  of 
lively,  clever  gossip,  which  the  duchess  gives  me 
laughing  and  which  my  father  confirms.  Never- 
theless, I  find  this  fault  prudent  and  wise.  While 
rewarding  so  many  nights  passed  at  the  foot  of  my 
wall,  I  wish  to  know  what  Felipe  will  think  of  my 
escapade,  and  to  judge  him  in  such  a  moment; 
make  of  him  my  dear  husband  if  he  deifies  my  fault; 
or  never  see  him  again  if  he  is  not  more  respectful 
and  more  trembling  than  when  he  bows  to  me  in 
passing  on  horseback  in  the  Champs-Elysees.  As 
to  the  world,  I  risk  less  in  seeing  my  lover  thus 
than  in  smiling  upon  him  in  the  house  of  Madame 
de  Maufrigneuse  or  in  that  of  the  old  Marquise  de 
Beauseant,  where  we  are  now  surrounded  by  spies, 
for  God  knows  what  looks  follow  a  girl  who  is  sus- 
pected of  paying  attention  to  a  monster  like  Macu- 
mer.  Oh!  if  you  knew  how  much  I  am  inwardly 
agitated  in  thinking  of  this  project,  how  much  I  am 
occupied  in  seeing  in  advance  how  it  will  be  re- 
alized! I  have  regretted  you,  we  would  have 
chatted  during  several  little  hours,  lost  in  the  laby- 
rinths of  uncertainty  and  experiencing  in  advance 
all  the  good  or  evil  fortunes  of  a  first  rendezvous  at 
night,  in  the  shadow  and  in  the  silence,  under  the 
fine  linden  trees  of  the  H6tel  de  Chaulieu,  pierced 
by  the  thousand  rays  of  the  moon.  I  palpitated  all 


138  MEMOIRS  OF 

alone  in  saying  to  myself:  "Ah!  Renee,  where  are 
you?"  Your  letter  then  put  fire  to  the  powder,  and 
my  last  scruples  vanished.  I  threw  from  my  win- 
dow to  my  stupefied  adorer  the  exact  design  of  a 
key  of  the  little  gate  at  the  end  of  the  garden,  with 
this  note : 

"It  is  wished  to  prevent  you  from  committing 
foolish  actions.  By  breaking  your  neck,  you  will 
deprive  of  honor  the  person  whom  you  say  you  love. 
Are  you  worthy  of  a  new  proof  of  esteem  and  do  you 
wish  that  one  should  speak  with  you  at  the  hour 
when  the  moon  leaves  in  shadow  the  linden  trees  at 
the  end  of  the  garden?" 

Yesterday  morning,  at  one  o'clock,  at  the  momen 
when  Griffith  was  about  to  go  to  bed,  I  said  to  her : 

"Get  your  shawl  and  accompany  me,  my  dear;  I 
wish  to  go  to  the  end  of  the  garden  without  any  one 
knowing  it!" 

She  did  not  say  a  word  and  followed  me.  What 
sensations,  my  Renee !  for,  after  having  waited  for 
him,  a  prey  to  a  charming  little  anguish,  I  saw  him 
gliding  along  like  a  shadow.  When  we  reached  the 
garden  without  any  disturbance  I  said  to  Griffith : 

"Do  not  be  astonished,  there  is  the  Baron  de 
Macumer,  and  it  is  because  of  him  that  I  have 
brought  you  here." 

She  said  nothing. 

"What  do  you  wish  with  me?"  said  Felipe  to  me 
in  a  voice  the  emotion  of  which  betrayed  that  the 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  139 

sound  of  our  dresses  in  the  silence  of  the  night  and 
that  of  our  feet  on  the  sand,  1  ight  as  it  was,  had 
made  him  beside  himself. 

"I  wish  to  say  to  you  what  I  did  not  know  how  to 
write,"  I  replied  to  him. 

Griffith  went  away  six  steps  from  us.  The  night 
was  one  of  those  balmy  nights,  fragrant  with  flowers ; 
I  experienced  in  this  moment  an  intoxicating  pleas- 
ure at  finding  myself  almost  alone  with  him  in  the 
soft  darkness  of  the  linden  trees,  beyond  which  the 
garden  glittered  all  the  more  that  the  facade  of  the 
Hotel  reflected  the  pale  light  of  the  moon.  This 
contrast  offered  a  vague  image  of  the  mystery  of  our 
love  which  should  finish  by  the  brilliant  publicity 
of  marriage.  After  a  moment  given  by  both  of  us 
to  the  pleasure  of  the  situation,  novel  for  both  of  us, 
and  in  which  we  were  both  equally  astonished,  I 
recovered  the  power  of  speech. 

"Although  I  do  not  fear  calumny,  I  do  not  wish 
any  longer  that  you  should  climb  into  that  tree,"  I 
said  to  him,  indicating  the  elm,  "nor  on  that  wall. 
We  have  done  enough  behaving,  you  like  a  school- 
boy, and  I  like  a  boarding-school  girl :  let  us  elevate 
our  sentiments  to  the  height  of  our  destinies.  If 
you  had  been  killed  in  your  fall,  I  should  have  died 
dishonored — " 

I  looked  at  him,  he  was  pale. 

"And  if  you  had  been  surprised  thus,  my  mother 
or  1,  we  would  have  been  suspected — " 

"Forgive  me,"  he  said  in  a  feeble  voice. 

"Pass  along  on  the  boulevard,  I  will  hear  your 


140  MEMOIRS  OF 

step,  and  when  I  wish  to  see  you  I  will  open  my 
window;  but  I  will  not  make  you  run  this  risk  and 
I  will  not  run  it  myself  except  on  some  serious  oc- 
casion. Why  have  you  compelled  me,  by  your  im- 
prudence, to  expose  myself  to  another  and  to  give 
you  an  unworthy  opinion  of  me?" 

I  saw  tears  in  his  eyes  which  seemed  to  me  the 
finest  reply  in  the  world. 

"You  may  believe,"  I  said  to  him  smiling,  "that 
my  enterprise  is  excessively  hazardous — " 

After  one  or  two  turns  which  we  took  in  silence 
under  the  trees,  he  found  words  to  express  himself. 

"You  must  think  me  stupid;  and  I  am  so  intoxi- 
cated with  happiness  that  I  am  without  strength  and 
without  wit;  but  know  at  least  that  in  my  eyes  you 
sanctify  your  actions  by  this  alone — that  you  permit 
them  to  yourself.  The  respect  which  I  have  for  you 
can  only  be  compared  with  that  which  1  have  for 
God.  Moreover,  Miss  Griffith  is  there." 

"She  is  there  for  others  and  not  for  us,  Felipe,"  I 
said  to  him  quickly. 

This  man,  my  dear,  understood  me. 

"I  know  well,"  he  answered,  casting  at  me  the 
most  humble  glance,  "that  if  she  were  not  there, 
everything  would  take  place  between  us  just  as  if 
she  saw  us :  if  we  are  not  before  men  we  are  always 
in  the  presence  of  God,  and  we  have  as  much  need 
of  our  own  respect  as  of  that  of  the  world." 

"Thanks,  Felipe,"  I  said  to  him,  offering  him 
my  hand  with  a  gesture  which  you  should  have 
seen.  "A  woman,  and  you  may  take  me  for  a 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  141 

woman,  is  well  disposed  to  love  a  man  who  compre- 
hends her.  Oh!  only  disposed,"  I  added,  placing 
a  finger  upon  my  lips.  "I  do  not  wish  that  you 
should  have  any  more  hope  than  I  should  wish  to 
give  you.  My  heart  will  only  belong  to  him  who 
will  know  how  to  read  it  and  to  know  it  thoroughly. 
Our  sentiments,  without  being  absolutely  the  same, 
should  have  the  same  breadth,  should  be  at  the  same 
elevation.  I  do  not  seek  to  make  myself  greater, 
for  those  which  I  think  to  be  good  qualities  include 
doubtless  some  defects;  but,  if  I  did  not  have  them, 
I  should  be  exceedingly  sorry." 

"After  having  accepted  me  for  your  servitor,  you 
have  permitted  me  to  love  you,"  said  he  trembling 
and  watching  me  at  each  word:  "I  have  more  than 
I  at  first  desired." 

"But,"  I  replied  to  him  quickly,  "I  find  your  lot 
to  be  better  than  mine;  I  should  not  complain  to 
change  them,  and  this  change  concerns  you." 

"It  is  for  me  now  to  thank  you,"  he  replied:  "I 
know  the  duties  of  a  loyal  lover.  I  should  prove  to 
you  that  I  am  worthy  of  you,  and  you  have  the  right 
to  put  me  to  the  proof  as  long  as  you  please.  You 
can,  my  God!  reject  me  if  I  betray  your  hope." 

"I  know  that  you  love  me,"  I  answered.  "Up 
to  the  present" — I  cruelly  accented  this  word — "you 
are  the  preferred,  this  is  why  you  are  here." 

We  then  recommenced  our  little  promenade  still 
talking,  and  I  must  avow  to  you  that,  when  put  at 
his  ease,  my  Spaniard  displayed  the  veritable  elo- 
quence of  the  heart  in  expressing  to  me,  not  his 


142  MEMOIRS  OF 

passion,  but  his  tenderness;  for  he  was  able  to  ex- 
plain his  sentiments  to  me  by  an  adorable  compari- 
son with  the  divine  love.  His  penetrating  voice, 
which  lent  a  peculiar  value  to  his  thoughts  so  deli- 
cate in  themselves,  resembled  the  notes  of  the 
nightingale.  He  spoke  in  a  low  voice,  in  the  full 
medium  tones  of  his  delightful  organ,  and  his 
phrases  followed  each  other  with  the  precipitation 
of  a  boiling  over, — his  heart  overflowed  in  them. 

"Cease,"  I  said  to  him,  "I  shall  stay  here  longer 
than  I  should." 

And  with  a  gesture  I  dismissed  him. 

"You  are  engaged,  mademoiselle,"  said  Griffith 
to  me. 

"Perhaps  so  in  England,  but  not  in  France,"  I 
replied  negligently.  "I  wish  to  make  a  marriage 
of  love  and  not  to  be  deceived, — that  is  all." 

You  see,  my  dear,  love  does  not  come  to  me,  I 
have  done  as  Mohammed  did  with  his  mountain. 

Friday. 

I  have  seen  my  slave  again :  he  has  become  fear- 
ful, he  has  assumed  a  mysterious  and  devout  air 
which  pleases  me ;  he  appears  to  me  to  be  pene- 
trated with  my  glory  and  my  puissance.  But  noth- 
ing, neither  in  his  looks,  nor  in  his  manners,  would 
permit  any  soothsayer  in  the  world  to  suspect  in 
him  that  infinite  love  which  I  see.  However,  my 
dear,  I  am  not  carried  away,  dominated,  conquered; 
on  the  contrary,  I  conquer,  1  dominate  and  I  carry 
away — .  In  short,  I  reason.  Ah!  I  should  well  like 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  14$ 

to  find  again  that  fear  which  was  awakened  in  me 
by  the  fascination  of  the  teacher  of  languages,  of 
the  bourgeois  to  whom  I  refused  myself.  There  are 
two  loves, — that  which  commands  and  that  which 
obeys;  they  are  distinct  and  give  birth  to  two  pas- 
sions which  are  unlike;  to  have  her  full  experience 
of  life,  perhaps  a  woman  should  know  both  of  these. 
Can  these  two  passions  become  confounded?  A 
man  in  whom  we  inspire  love,  will  he  inspire  it  in 
us?  Will  Felipe  be  one  day  my  master?  Shall  1 
tremble  as  he  trembles?  These  questions  make  me 
shudder.  He  is  very  blind!  In  his  place,  I  should 
have  found  Mademoiselle  de  Chaulieu  under  those 
linden  trees  very  coquettishly  cold>  formal,  calcu- 
lating. No,  it  is  not  loving,  that,  it  is  sporting 
with  fire.  Felipe  always  pleases  me,  but  I  find 
myself  now  calm  and  very  much  at  my  ease.  No 
more  obstacles,  what  a  terrible  word.  Everything 
is  quieting  down  within  me,  subsiding,  and  I  am 
afraid  to  interrogate  myself.  He  was  wrong  to  hide 
from  me  the  violence  of  his  love,  he  has  left  me 
mistress  of  myself.  In  short,  I  do  not  have  the 
benefits  of  this  species  of  fault.  Yes,  dear,  what- 
ever pleasure  is  given  me  by  the  remembrance  of 
that  half  hour  passed  under  the  trees,  I  find  this 
pleasure  very  much  inferior  to  the  emotions  which 
I  experienced  in  saying  to  myself:  "Shall  I  go 
there?  Shall  I  not  go  there?  Shall  I  write  to  him? 
Shall  I  not  write  to  him?"  Will  it  be  thus  with 
all  our  pleasures?  Will  it  be  better  to  postpone 
them  than  to  enjoy  them?  Will  hope  be  better 


144  MEMOIRS  OF 

than  possession?  The  rich,  are  they  the  poor? 
Have  we,  both  of  us,  given  too  much  extent  to  the 
feelings  in  developing  beyond  measure  the  forces  of 
our  imagination  ?  There  are  moments  in  which  this 
idea  chills  me.  Do  you  know  why?  I  dream  of 
going  again  to  the  end  of  the  garden  without  Griffith. 
How  far  shall  I  go  thus?  The  imagination  has  no 
bounds,  and  the  pleasures  have.  Tell  me,  dear 
doctor  in  a  corset,  how  to  conciliate  these  two  con- 
clusions of  a  woman's  existence? 


XXII 
LOUISE  TO  FELIPE 

I  am  not  satisfied  with  you.  If  you  did  not  weep 
in  reading  Racine's  B'er'enice,  and  not  find  it  the 
most  horrible  of  tragedies,  you  will  not  in  the  least 
comprehend  me,  we  shall  never  understand  each 
other:  let  us  break  off,  let  us  see  each  other  no 
more,  forget  me;  for,  if  you  do  not  reply  to  me  in 
a  satisfactory  manner,  I  will  forget  you,  you  will 
become  Monsieur  le  Baron  de  Macumer  for  me,  or, 
rather,  you  will  become  to  me  nothing,  you  will  be 
for  me  as  if  you  had  never  existed.  Yesterday,  at 
the  house  of  Madame  d'Espard,  you  had  an  inexpli- 
cable air  of  contentment  which  excessively  dis- 
pleased me.  You  appeared  certain  of  being  loved. 
Finally,  the  freedom  of  your  wit  terrified  me,  and  I 
did  not  in  the  least  recognize  in  you,  at  that 
moment,  the  servitor  which  you  professed  yourself 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  145 

in  your  first  letter.  Far  from  being  completely 
absorbed  as  should  be  the  man  who  loves,  you 
found  clever  speeches  to  utter.  This  is  not  the 
way  that  a  true  believer  comports  himself, — he  is 
always  crushed  before  the  divinity.  If  I  am  not  a 
being  superior  to  all  other  women,  if  you  do  not  see 
in  me  the  source  of  your  life,  I  am  less  than  a 
woman,  because  then  I  am  simply  a  woman.  You 
have  awakened  my  mistrust,  Felipe:  it  has  com- 
plained so  loudly  as  to  overcome  the  voice  of  ten- 
derness, and,  when  I  consider  our  past,  I  find  that  I 
have  a  right  to  be  mistrustful.  Know  it  well,  Mon- 
sieur the  Constitutional  Minister  of  all  the  Spains, 
1  have  profoundly  reflected  on  the  poor  condition  of 
my  sex.  My  innocence  has  held  lighted  torches  in 
her  hands  without  burning  herself.  Listen  atten- 
tively to  what  my  young  experience  has  said  to  me 
and  which  I  repeat  to  you.  In  every  other  thing, 
duplicity,  the  breaking  of  faith,  the  unfulfilled 
promises  find  judges,  and  the  judges  inflict  punish- 
ments; but  it  is  not  so  in  love,  which  should  be  at 
the  same  time  the  victim,  the  accuser,  the  advocate, 
the  tribunal  and  the  executioner ;  for  the  most  atro- 
cious perfidies,  the  most  horrible  crimes  remain  un- 
known, are  committed  by  one  soul  on  another 
without  witnesses,  and  it  is  in  the  interests  of  the 
assassinated  one  himself  to  keep  silence.  Love  has 
therefore  its  own  code,  its  own  vengeance :  there  is 
nothing  for  the  world  to  see  in  it  Now,  I  have 
resolved,  for  myself,  to  never  pardon  a  crime,  and 
there  is  nothing  superficial  in  the  things  of  the 


146  MEMOIRS  OF 

heart.  Yesterday,  you  had  the  air  of  a  man  certain 
of  being  loved.  You  would  be  wrong  not  to  have 
this  certainty,  but  you  would  be  criminal  in  my 
eyes  if  it  deprived  you  of  the  ingenuous  grace 
which  the  anxieties  of  hope  gave  you  formerly.  I 
do  not  wish  to  see  you  timid  or  stupid,  I  do  not  wish 
that  you  should  tremble  to  lose  my  affection,  for 
that  would  be  an  insult;  but  I  do  not  wish  any  more 
that  security  should  permit  you  to  carry  your  love 
lightly.  You  should  never  be  freer  than  I  am  my- 
self. If  you  do  not  know  the  torture  which  one 
thought  of  doubt  inflicts  on  the  soul,  tremble  lest  I 
should  teach  it  to  you.  By  a  single  glance,  I  have 
delivered  my  soul  to  you,  and  you  have  read  it. 
You  have  had  given  to  you  the  purest  sentiments 
which  ever  arose  in  the  soul  of  a  young  girl.  The 
reflection,  the  meditation  of  which  I  have  spoken  to 
you  have  only  enriched  the  head;  but,  when  the 
injured  heart  shall  ask  for  counsel  from  the  intelli- 
gence, believe  me,  the  young  girl  will  then  partake 
of  the  angel  who  knows  and  is  capable  of  all.  I 
swear  to  you,  Felipe,  if  you  love  me  as  I  believe, 
and  if  you  should  allow  me  to  suspect  the  least  en- 
feebling of  the  sentiments  of  fear,  of  obedience,  of 
respectful  waiting,  of  submissive  desire  which  you 
have  declared;  if  I  should  perceive  some  day  the 
least  diminution  in  that  first  and  beautiful  love 
which  from  your  soul  came  into  mine,  I  would  say 
nothing  to  you,  I  would  not  weary  you  by  a  letter 
more  or  less  dignified,  more  or  less  proud  or  angry, 
or  only  scolding  like  this  one;  I  would  say  nothing, 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  147 

Felipe, — you  would  see  me  sad  like  those  who  feel 
the  coming  of  death;  but  I  should  not  die  without 
having  inflicted  upon  you  the  most  horrible  dis- 
credit, without  having  dishonored  in  the  most 
shameful  manner  the  one  whom  you  should  love 
and  without  planting  in  your  heart  eternal  regrets, 
for  you  would  see  me  lost  in  this  world  in  the  eyes 
of  men  and  forever  accursed  in  the  other  world. 

Therefore,  do  not  render  me  jealous  of  any  other 
happy  Louise,  of  a  Louise  loved  holily,  of  a  Louise 
whose  soul  should  expand  in  a  love  without  shadow, 
and  who  would  possess,  as  in  Dante's  sublime  ex- 
pression, 

"Senza  brama,  sicura  ricchezza!"  * 

Know  that  I  have  searched  through  his  Inferno 
to  find  the  most  sorrowful  of  tortures,  a  terrible 
moral  chastisement  with  which  I  shall  associate  the 
eternal  vengeance  of  God. 

Yesterday,  by  your  conduct,  you  pierced  my  heart 
with  the  cold  and  cruel  blade  of  suspicion.  Do  you 
understand  ?  I  doubted  you,  and  I  suffered  so  much 
from  it  that  I  do  not  wish  to  doubt  any  more.  If  you 
find  my  service  too  hard,  leave  it,  I  shall  not  want 
you  in  the  least  Do  I  not  know  that  you  are  a 
man  of  character?  Reserve  all  the  flowers  of  your 
soul  for  me,  have  only  dull  eyes  for  the  world,  never 
place  yourself  in  a  position  to  receive  a  flattery,  a 
eulogy,  a  compliment  from  anyone  whomsoever. 
Come  to  see  me  overwhelmed  with  hatred,  having 

*To  possess,  without  fear,  riches  which  cannot  be  lost 


148  MEMOIRS  OF 

excited  a  thousand  calumnies  or  crushed  with  con- 
tempt, come  to  me  to  say  that  women  do  not  under- 
stand you,  walk  with  you  without  seeing  you,  and 
that  not  one  of  them  will  ever  know  how  to  love 
you,  you  will  then  learn  what  there  is  for  you  in 
the  heart  and  in  the  love  of  Louise.  Our  treasures 
should  be  so  well  buried,  that  the  whole  world 
should  trample  them  under  their  feet  without  sus- 
pecting their  existence.  If  you  were  handsome,  I 
should  doubtless  not  have  paid  the  least  attention 
to  you  and  should  not  have  discovered  in  you  the 
world  of  reasons  which  makes  love  bloom;  and, 
although  we  do  know  them  no  more  than  we  know 
how  the  sun  makes  the  flowers  bloom  or  the  fruits 
ripen,  nevertheless,  among  these  reasons,  there  is 
one  which  1  know  and  which  charms  me.  Your 
sublime  visage  has  its  character,  its  language,  its 
physiognomy  only  for  me.  I  alone,  I  have  the 
power  to  transform  you,  to  render  you  the  most 
adorable  of  all  men;  I  do  not  wish  then  that  your 
spirit  should  escape  from  my  possession, — it  should 
no  more  reveal  itself  to  others  than  your  eyes,  your 
charming  mouth  and  your  features  should  speak  to 
them.  To  me  alone  belongs  the  power  of  illumin- 
ating the  splendors  of  your  intelligence  as  I  give 
fire  to  your  glances.  Remain  that  sombre  and  cold, 
that  surly  and  disdainful  grandee  of  Spain  which 
you  were  formerly.  You  were  a  savage  dominion 
destroyed,  among  the  ruins  of  which  no  one  ven- 
tured, you  were  contemplated  from  a  distance,  and 
now  you  are  opening  up  pleasant  roads  for  all  the 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  149 

world  to  enter,  and  you  are  becoming  an  amiable 
Parisian!  Do  you  no  longer  remember  my  pro- 
gramme? Your  joys  revealed  a  little  too  plainly 
that  you  loved.  It  required  my  look  to  prevent 
you  from  making  known  to  the  salon  the  most  ob- 
serving, the  most  mocking,  the  wittiest  in  Paris, 
that  Armande-Louise-Marie  de  Chaulieu  gave  to 
you  your  spirit  I  believe  you  too  great  to  bring 
the  slightest  ruse  of  politics  into  your  love;  but,  if 
you  should  not  have  with  me  the  simplicity  of  a 
child,  I  should  complain  of  you;  and,  notwithstand- 
ing this  first  fault,  you  are  still  the  object  of  a  pro- 
found admiration  for 

LOUISE  DE  CHAULIEU. 


XXIII 

FELIPE  TO  LOUISE 

When  God  sees  our  faults,  he  sees  also  our  repent- 
ances: you  are  quite  right,  my  dear  mistress.  I 
felt  that  I  had  displeased  you  without  being  able  to 
penetrate  the  cause  of  your  trouble;  but  you  have 
explained  it  to  me,  and  you  have  given  me  new 
reasons  for  adoring  you.  Your  jealousy,  after  the 
manner  of  that  of  the  God  of  Israel,  has  filled  me 
with  happiness.  Nothing  is  more  saintly  nor  more 
sacred  than  jealousy.  Oh,  my  beautiful  guardian 
angel,  Jealousy  is  the  sentinel  who  never  sleeps; 
it  is  to  love  what  evil  is  to  man,  a  veracious  ad- 
monition. Be  jealous  of  your  servitor,  Louise:  the 


I$0  MEMOIRS  OF 

more  you  strike  him,  the  more  will  he  kiss,  sub- 
missive, humble  and  unhappy,  the  rod  which  in- 
forms him  in  striking  him  how  much  you  are 
attached  to  him.  But  alas!  dear,  if  you  have  not 
perceived  them,  is  it  then  God  who  will  keep  an 
account  for  me  of  so  many  efforts  made  to  vanquish 
my  timidity,  to  overcome  the  sentiments  which  you 
thought  feeble  in  me?  Yes,  I  took  it  seriously  upon 
myself  to  show  myself  to  you  as  I  was  before  I  loved. 
My  conversation  formerly  gave  some  pleasure  in 
Madrid,  and  I  wished  to  let  you  know  for  yourself 
what  I  was  worth.  Is  it  a  vanity?  you  have  well 
punished  it.  Your  last  look  left  me  in  a  trembling 
such  as  I  have  never  before  experienced,  even  when 
I  saw  the  French  forces  before  Cadiz,  'and  my  life 
held  in  suspense  in  a  hypocritical  phrase  of  my 
master.  I  sought  for  the  cause  of  your  displeasure 
without  being  able  to  find  it,  and  I  was  filled  with 
despair  at  this  want  of  accord  in  our  souls,  for  I 
should  act  by  your  will,  think  by  your  thoughts, 
see  by  your  eyes,  enjoy  in  your  pleasure  and  suffer 
in  your  pain,  as  I  feel  the  cold  and  the  heat.  For 
myself,  the  crime  and  the  anguish  lie  in  this  default 
of  simultaneousness  in  the  life  of  our  heart  which 
you  have  made  so  beautiful.  "Displease  her! — " 
I  repeated  to  myself  a  thousand  times  since  like  a 
fool.  My  noble  and  beautiful  Louise,  if  anything 
could  increase  my  absolute  devotion  for  you  and  my 
unshakable  belief  in  your  holy  conscience,  it  would 
be  your  doctrine  which  has  entered  into  my  heart 
like  a  new  light.  You  have  revealed  to  me  my  own 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  151 

feelings,  you  have  explained  to  me  things  which 
were  confused  in  my  mind — .  Oh!  if  you  think  to 
punish  thus,  what  are  then  the  recompenses  ?  But 
to  have  accepted  me  for  servitor  suffices  for  all  that 
I  wish.  I  draw  from  you  an  unhoped-for  light:  I 
am  devoted,  my  breath  is  not  useless,  my  strength 
has  its  employment,  were  it  only  to  suffer  for  you. 
I  have  said  it  to  you,  I  repeat  it  to  you,  you  will 
always  find  me  such  as  I  was  when  I  offered  myself 
as  a  humble  and  modest  servitor !  Yes,  were  you  dis- 
honored and  lost,  as  you  said  you  might  be,  my 
tenderness  would  augment  with  your  voluntary 
unhappiness !  I  would  dry  the  wounds,  I  would  heal 
them,  I  would  convince  God  by  my  prayers  that  you 
were  not  culpable  and  that  your  faults  were  the 
crime  of  others — .  Have  I  not  said  to  you  that  I 
bear  for  you  in  my  heart  all  those  diverse  senti- 
ments which  should  belong  to  a  father,  a  mother,  a 
sister  and  a  brother  ?  that  I  am  before  everything  a 
family  for  you,  everything  and  nothing,  according 
to  your  wishes  ?  But  is  it  not  you  who  have  im- 
prisoned so  many  hearts  in  the  heart  of  a  lover  ? 
Forgive  me  then  for  being  from  time  to  time  more 
lover  than  father  and  brother,  and  learn  that  there 
is  always  a  brother,  a  father  behind  the  lover.  If 
you  could  read  in  my  heart,  when  I  see  you  beauti- 
ful and  radiant,  serene  and  admired  by  all  in  the 
corner  of  your  carriage  in  the  Champs-El ysees  or  in 
your  box  in  the  theatre! — Ah!  if  you  knew  how 
little  my  pride  is  personal  when  I  hear  the  praises 
which  the  sight  of  your  beauty  compels,  by  your 


152  MEMOIRS  OF 

carriage,  and  how  much  I  love  the  unknown  persons 
who  admire  you !  When  by  chance  you  have  en- 
riched my  soul  by  a  salutation,  I  am  at  the  same  time 
humble  and  proud,  I  go  away  as  if  God  had  blessed 
me,  I  return  home  joyous,  and  my  joy  leaves  in  me 
a  long,  luminous  trace, — it  shines  in  the  wreaths  of 
the  smoke  of  my  cigarette,  and  I  know  all  the  more 
because  of  it  that  the  blood  which  boils  in  my  veins 
is  all  yours.  Do  you  not  then  know  how  much  you 
are  loved?  After  having  seen  you,  I  return  into  the 
cabinet  where  glitters  all  the  Saracenic  magnifi- 
cence, but  where  your  portrait  eclipses  everything 
else,  when  I  have  pressed  the  spring  which  renders 
it  invisible  to  all  other  eyes;  and  I  then  give  my- 
self up  to  the  infinitude  of  this  contemplation :  I 
make  of  it  poems  of  happiness.  From  the  height  of 
the  heavens,  I  can  perceive  the  course  of  a  whole 
life  which  I  dare  to  hope.  Have  you  sometimes 
heard  in  the  silence  of  the  night,  or,  notwithstand- 
ing the  noise  of  the  world,  a  voice  sound  in  your 
dear  little  adored  ear?  Are  you  ignorant  of  the 
thousand  prayers  which  are  addressed  to  you? 
Through  long  contemplation  of  you  silently,  I  have 
ended  by  discover  ing  the  reason  of  all  your  features, 
their  correspondence  with  the  perfection  of  your 
soul ;  I  compose  to  you  then,  in  Spanish,  on  this 
accord  of  your  two  beautiful  natures,  sonnets  which 
you  do  not  know,  for  my  poesy  is  too  much  below 
the  subject,  and  I  dare  not  send  it  to  you.  My  heart 
is  so  perfectly  absorbed  in  yours  that  I  do  not  pass 
a  moment  without  thinking  of  you;  and,  if  you 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  153 

should  cease  to  thus  animate  my  life,  it  would  mean 
suffering  for  me.  Do  you  now  understand,  Louise, 
what  a  torment  it  is  for  me  to  be,  quite  involun- 
tarily, the  cause  of  a  displeasure  to  you  and  not  to 
be  able  to  guess  the  reason?  This  beautiful  double 
life  was  arrested,  and  my  heart  felt  a  glacial  cold. 
Finally,  in  the  possibility  of  explaining  to  myself 
this  want  of  accord,  I  thought  that  I  was  no  longer 
loved;  I  returned  very  sorrowfully,  but  happy  still, 
to  my  condition  of  servitor,  when  your  letter  arrived 
and  filled  me  with  joy.  Oh!  scold  me  always  thus. 
A  child  who  had  fallen  said  to  its  mother:  "For- 
give me!"  in  rising  and  concealing  from  her  its 
hurt.  Yes,  forgiveness  for  having  caused  her  an 
anxiety.  Well,  this  child,  it  is  I:  I  have  not 
changed,  I  deliver  to  you  the  key  to  my  character 
with  the  submission  of  a  slave;  but,  dear  Louise,  I 
shall  make  no  more  false  steps..  Endeavor  to  keep 
the  chain  which  attaches  me  to  you  and  which  you 
hold,  always  sufficiently  tightened  so  that  a  single 
movement  may  communicate  your  least  wishes  to 
him  who  will  be  always 

Your  slave, 

FELIPE. 

XXIV 

LOUISE  DE  CHAULIEU    TO  RENE*E    DE  L'ESTORADE 

October,  1825. 

My  dear  friend,   you  who  married   yourself   in 
two  months  to  a  poor  sufferer  of  whom  you  made 


154  MEMOIRS  OF 

yourself  the  mother,  you  know  nothing  of  the  fright- 
ful and  sudden  changes  of  that  drama  which  is  played 
in  the  depths  of  hearts  and  called  love,  in  which 
everything  becomes  tragical  in  a  moment,  in  which 
death  is  in  a  look,  in  a  response  lightly  made.  I 
reserved  for  a  last  proof  of  Felipe  a  terrible  but 
decisive  trial.  I  wished  to  know  if  I  were  loved 
quandmeme!  the  great  and  sublime  words  of  the 
Royalists,  and  why  not  of  the  Catholics?  He 
walked  with  me  all  one  night  under  the  linden  trees 
at  the  end  of  our  garden,  and  he  did  not  have  in 
his  soul  even  the  shadow  of  a  doubt.  The  next 
day,  I  was  more  loved,  and  for  him  still  quite  as 
chaste,  quite  as  grand,  quite  as  pure  as  the  night 
before ;  he  had  not  taken  from  it  the  least  advantage. 
Oh!  he  is  indeed  a  Spaniard,  indeed  an  Abencer- 
rage.  He  scaled  my  wall  to  kiss  the  hand  which  I 
offered  to  him  in  the  shadow  from  the  height  of  my 
balcony;  he  risked  falling;  but  how  many  young 
people  would  do  as  much?  All  that  is  nothing,  the 
Christians  endure  frightful  martyrdoms  to  attain 
Heaven.  Day  before  yesterday,  in  the  evening,  I 
took  to  one  side  the  future  Ambassador  of  the  King 
at  the  Court  of  Spain,  my  very  honored  father,  and 
I  said  to  him  smiling: 

"Monsieur,  for  a  small  number  of  friends,  you 
will  marry  to  the  nephew  of  an  ambassador  your 
dear  Armande,  to  whom  this  ambassador,  desirous 
of  such  an  alliance  and  who  has  begged  for  it  for  a 
sufficient  length  of  time,  assures  in  the  marriage 
contract  his  immense  fortune  and  his  titles  after  his 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  155 

death,  while  giving,  at  the  present  moment,  to  the 
married  couple  a  hundred  thousand  francs'  income 
and  acknowledging  for  the  bride  a  dot  of  eight 
hundred  thousand  francs.  Your  daughter  weeps, 
but  she  bows  under  the  irresistible  ascendency  of 
your  majestic  paternal  authority.  Some  slanderers 
assert  that  your  daughter  hides  under  her  tears  a 
designing  and  ambitious  soul.  We  are  going  this 
evening  to  the  Opera,  in  the  gentleman's  box,  and 
Monsieur  le  Baron  de  Macumer  will  come  there." 

"He  is  not  going  then?"  replied  my  father  smil- 
ing and  addressing  me  as  an  ambassadress. 

"You  take  Clarissa  Harlowe  for  Figaro!"  I  said 
to  him  throwing  upon  him  a  look  full  of  disdain  and 
of  mockery.  "When  you  have  seen  me  with  the 
right  hand  ungloved  you  will  deny  this  impertinent 
story,  and  you  will  show  that  you  are  offended  by  it " 

"I  may  be  easy  concerning^  your  future, — you 
have  no  more  the  head  of  a  young  girl  than  Joan  of 
Arc  had  a  woman's  heart  You  will  be  happy,  you 
will  love  no  one  and  you  will  allow  yourself  to  be 
loved!" 

This  time  I  burst  into  laughter. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  you,  my  little 
coquette?"  he  said  to  me. 

"I  tremble  for  the  interests  of  my  country — " 

And,  seeing  that  he  did  not  understand  me,  I  added : 

"At  Madrid!" 

"You  would  not  believe  to  what  an  extent,  at  the 
end  of  a  year,  this  nun  makes  fun  of  her  father," 
said  he  to  the  duchess. 


156  MEMOIRS  OF 

"Armande  makes  fun  of  everything,"  replied  my 
mother  looking  at  me. 

"What  do  you  wish  to  say?"  I  asked  her. 

"Why,  you  do  not  even  fear  the  dampness  of  the 
night  which  might  give  you  rheumatism,"  she  said, 
giving  me  another  look. 

"The  mornings,"  I  replied,  "are  so  warm!" 

The  duchess  lowered  her  eyes. 

"It  is  high  time  to  marry  her,"  said  my  father, 
"and  it  will  be,  I  hope,  before  my  departure." 

"Yes,  if  you  wish  it,"  I  replied  to  him  simply. 

Two  hours  later,  my  mother  and  I,  the  Duchesse 
de  Maufrigneuse  and  Madame  d'Espard,  we  were 
like  four  roses  in  the  front  of  the  opera  box.  I  had 
placed  myself  at  the  side,  presenting  only  a  shoulder 
to  the  public  and  being  able  to  see  everything  with- 
out being  seen  in  that  spacious  box  which  occupies 
one  of  the  two  panels  of  the  wall  at  the  end  of  the 
auditorium,  bet  ween  the  columns.  Macumer  arrived, 
planted  himself  on  his  legs  and  put  his  opera  glasses 
before  his  eyes  so  that  he  might  contemplate  me  at 
his  ease.  At  the  first  entr'acte  he  came  in  whom 
I  called  "the  king  of  the  ribalds,"  a  young  man  of 
feminine  beauty.  The  Comte  Henri  de  Marsay 
made  his  appearance  in  the  box  with  an  epigram  in 
his  eyes,  a  smile  on  his  lips,  a  joyful  air  all  over 
his  face.  He  made  his  compliments  first  to  my 
mother,  then  to  Madame  d'Espard,  to  the  Duchesse 
de  Maufrigneuse,  to  the  Comte  d'Esgrignon  and  to 
Monsieur  de  Canal  is;  then  he  said  to  me: 

"I    do    not    know    if    I    shall    be   the    first    to 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  157 

compliment  you  on  an  event  which  will  render  you 
an  object  of  envy." 

"Ah,  a  marriage!"  I  said.  "Is  it  for  a  young 
person  who  has  so  recently  come  out  of  a  convent  to 
instruct  you  that  the  marriages  which  are  talked  of 
never  take  place?" 

Monsieur  de  Marsay  leaned  over  to  the  ear  of 
Macumer,  and  I  perfectly  understood,  only  through 
the  movement  of  his  lips,  that  he  said  to  him : 

"Baron,  you  are  perhaps  in  love  with  that  little 
coquette,  who  has  made  use  of  you ;  but,  as  it  is  a 
question  of  marriage  and  not  of  a  passion,  it  is 
always  necessary  to  know  what  is  going  on." 

Macumer  threw  upon  the  officious  slanderer  one 
of  those  looks  which,  as  I  say,  is  a  poem,  and  re- 
plied to  him  something  like,  "I  do  not  love  any  lit- 
tle coquette !"  with  an  air  which  delighted  me  so 
that  I  took  off  my  glove  on  ,  seeing  my  father. 
Felipe  had  not  had  the  slightest  fear  nor  the  slight- 
est suspicion.  He  had  abundantly  realized  all  that 
I  expected  of  his  character, — he  had  faith  only  in 
me,  the  world  and  its  falsehoods  did  not  reach  him. 
The  Abencerrage  had  not  frowned,  the  color  of  his 
blue  blood  had  not  tinged  his  olive  face.  The  two 
young  counts  went  out.  I  said  then,  laughing,  to 
Macumer : 

"Monsieur  de  Marsay  has  made  for  you  an  epi- 
gram on  me." 

"Much  more  than  an  epigram,"  he  replied;  "an 
epithalamium. " 

"You  are  speaking  Greek  to  me,"  I  said  to  him 


158  MEMOIRS  OF 

smiling  and  rewarding  him  with  a  certain  look 
which  always  makes  him  lose  countenance. 

"I  hope  so  indeed!"  exclaimed  my  father  address- 
ing Madame  de  Maufrigneuse.  "There  is  some 
infamous  gossip  about.  As  soon  as  a  young  girl 
comes  into  society,  there  is  a  rage  to  marry  her,  and 
all  sorts  of  absurdities  are  invented !  1  shall  never 
marry  Armande  against  her  will.  I  am  going  to 
take  a  turn  in  the  foyer,  for  it  will  be  believed  that 
I  am  allowing  this  rumor  to  circulate  so  as  to  suggest 
this  marriage  to  the  ambassador ;  and  the  daughter 
of  Caesar  should  be  even  less  suspected  than  his 
wife,  who  should  not  be  suspected  at  all." 

The  Duchesse  de  Maufrigneuse  and  Madame 
d'Espard  looked  first  at  my  mother,  then  at  the 
baron,  with  a  sparkling,  bantering,  crafty  air,  full 
of  restrained  interrogations.  These  fine  adders  had 
ended  by  suspecting  something.  Of  all  the  secret 
things,  love  is  the  most  public,  and  women  exhale 
it,  I  believe.  Thus,  to  conceal  it  well,  a  woman 
should  be  a  monster.  Our  eyes  are  even  more  talk- 
ative than  our  tongues.  After  having  enjoyed  the 
delicious  pleasure  of  finding  Felipe  as  grand  as  I 
wished  him  to  be,  I  naturally  desired  something 
more.  I  accordingly  made  to  him  a  signal  agreed 
upon  to  tell  him  to  come  to  my  window  by  the  dan- 
gerous road  which  you  know  of.  Some  hours  later, 
I  found  him  straight  as  a  statue,  flattened  against 
the  side  of  the  wall,  his  hands  supported  on  the 
balcony  of  my  window,  studying  the  reflections  of 
the  light  in  my  apartment 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  159 

"My  dear  Felipe,"  I  said  to  him,  "you  did  well 
this  evening, — you  conducted  yourself  as  I  would 
have  behaved  myself  if  I  had  heard  that  you  were 
about  to  be  married." 

"I  thought  that  you  would  have  informed  me  be- 
fore all  the  world,"  he  replied. 

"And  what  is  your  right  to  this  privilege?" 

"That  of  a  devoted  servitor." 

"Are  you  really  one?" 

"Yes,"  said  he;  "and  I  shall  never  change." 

"Well,  if  this  marriage  were  necessary,  if  I 
should  resign  myself — " 

The  soft  light  of  the  moon  was  as  it  were  lit  up 
by  the  two  glances  which  he  threw  first  on  me,  then 
on  the  sort  of  abyss  which  the  wall  made  between 
us.  Judging  from  the  lightning-like  glance  which 
illumined  his  face  and  darted  from  his  eyes,  he 
appeared  to  ask  himself  if  we  ,could  die  together, 
crushed,  but  this  sentiment  was  repressed  by  a  force 
superior  to  that  of  passion. 

"The  Arab  has  only  one  word,"  he  said  in  a 
choking  voice,"!  am  your  servitor  and  belong  to 
you:  I  will  live  all  my  life  for  you." 

The  hand  which  held  the  balcony  seemed  to  me  to 
slacken  its  grasp,  I  placed  my  own  on  it  saying  to 
him: 

"Felipe,  my  friend,  I  am  by  my  own  will  your 
wife  from  this  instant  Go  and  demand  me  to-mor- 
row morning  from  my  father.  He  wishes  to  keep 
my  fortune;  but  you  will  engage  yourself  to  ac- 
knowledge it  in  the  contract  for  me  without  having 


160  MEMOIRS  OF 

received  it,  and  you  will  doubtless  come  to  an 
agreement.  I  am  no  longer  Armande  de  Chaulieu; 
descend  promptly,  Louise  de  Macumer  does  not  wish 
to  commit  the  slightest  imprudence." 

He  turned  pale,  his  legs  gave  way,  he  threw  him- 
self from  a  height  of  about  ten  feet  to  the  ground 
without  doing  himself  the  least  injury;  but,  after 
having  caused  me  the  most  horrible  emotion,  he 
saluted  me  with  his  hand  and  disappeared.  "I  am 
then  beloved,"  I  said  to  myself,  "as  a  woman  never 
was!"  And  I  fell  asleep  with  a  childish  satisfac- 
tion ;  my  fate  was  forever  fixed.  About  two  o'clock 
the  next  day,  my  father  sent  for  me  in  his  cabinet, 
where  I  found  the  duchess  and  Macumer.  The  com- 
pliments were  graciously  exchanged.  I  replied 
quite  simply  that,  if  Monsieur  Henarez  had  come  to 
an  agreement  with  my  father,  I  had  no  reason  for 
opposing  their  wishes.  Thereupon  my  mother  re- 
tained the  baron  for  dinner;  after  which,  we  all 
four  went  for  a  promenade  in  the  Bois  de  Boulogne. 
I  looked  very  mockingly  at  Monsieur  de  Marsay 
when  he  passed  on  horseback,  for  he  noticed  Macu- 
mer and  my  father  on  the  front  seat  of  the  carriage. 

My  adorable  Felipe  has  changed  his  card  to  this : 

HENAREZ, 
DES  Dues  DE  SORIA,  BARON  DE  MACUMER 

Every  morning  he  brings  me  himself  a  bouquet  of 
a  delicious  magnificence,  in  the  midst  of  which  I 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  l6l 

find  always  a  letter  which  contains  a  Spanish  son- 
net in  my  praise  written  by  him  during  the  night 

Not  to  make  this  package  too  heavy,  I  send  you 
as  a  specimen  the  first  and  the  last  of  these  sonnets, 
which  I  have  translated  for  you  word  by  word  in 
arranging  them  for  you  verse  by  verse. 

FIRST  SONNET 

More  than  once,  covered  with  a  thin  vest  of  silk, 
— the  sword  high  without  my  heart's  beating  one 
pulsation  the  more, — I  have  waited  for  the  assault 
of  the  furious  bull — and  his  horn  sharper  than  the 
crescent  of  Phoebe. 

I  have  mounted,  humming  an  Andalusian  segui- 
dilla, — the  slope  of  a  redoubt  under  a  rain  of  iron; 
— I  have  thrown  my  life  on  the  green  cloth  of 
chance — without  thinking  more  of  it  than  of  a  quad- 
ruple of  gold. 

I  would  have  taken  with  my  hand  the  balls  from 
the  throat  of  the  cannon; — but  I  believe  that  I  have 
become  more  timid  than  a  hare  on  the  watch,  than 
an  infant  who  sees  a  spectre  in  the  folds  of  his 
window. 

For,  when  thou  lookest  at  me  with  thy  gentle 
glance, — an  icy  sweat  covers  my  forehead,  my  knees 
give  way  under  me, — I  tremble,  I  recoil,  I  no  longer 
have  any  courage. 

SECOND  SONNET 

This  night,  I  wished  to  sleep  that  I  might  dream 
of  thee; — but  the  jealous  slumber  fled  my  eyelids; 


162  MEMOIRS  OF 

— I  placed  myself  on  the  balcony  and  I  looked  at  the 
sky: — when  I  think  of  thee,  my  eyes  always  turn 
heavenward. 

Strange  phenomena,  which  love  alone  can  ex- 
plain,— the  firmament  had  lost  its  color  of  sapphire: 
— the  stars,  diamonds  extinguished  in  their  mount- 
ing of  gold, — launched  only  dying  glances,  perishing 
rays. 

The  moon,  deprived  of  her  adornment  of  silver 
and  of  lily, — rolled  sorrowfully  on  the  dull  horizon, 
for  thou  hast  robbed  the  sky  of  all  its  splendors. 

The  whiteness  of  the  moon  shines  on  thy  charm- 
ing forehead, — all  the  azure  of  the  sky  is  concen- 
trated in  thy  eyeballs,  and  thy  lashes  are  formed  by 
the  rays  of  the  stars. 

Could  one  prove  more  gracefully  to  a  young  girl 
that  one  is  occupied  only  with  her?  What  do  you 
say  to  this  love  which  expresses  itself  by  lavishing 
the  flowers  of  intelligence  and  the  flowers  of  the 
earth?  Within  the  last  ten  days  I  have  known 
what  it  is, this  Spanish  gallantry  so  famous  formerly. 

Ah  now!  dear,  what  is  going  on  at  La  Crampade, 
where  I  walk  about  so  often  examining  the  progress 
of  our  agriculture  ?  Have  you  nothing  to  say  to  me 
of  our  mulberry  trees,  of  our  plantations,  of  last 
Winter  ?  Is  everything  succeeding  according  to 
your  wishes  ?  Have  the  flowers  bloomed  out  in  thy 
heart  of  a  spouse  at  the  same  time  as  those  of  our 
shrubbery  ?  I  dare  not  say  of  our  borders.  Does 
Louis  continue  his  system  of  madrigals  ?  Do  you 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  163 

understand  each  other  well  ?  The  gentle  murmur  of 
thy  stream  of  conjugal  tenderness,  is  it  worth  more 
than  the  turbulence  of  the  torrents  of  my  love  ?  My 
gentle  doctor  in  petticoats,  is  she  vexed?  I  would 
not  know  how  to  believe  it,  and  I  would  send  Felipe 
as  a  courier  to  place  himself  at  your  knees  and  to 
bring  back  to  me  your  head  or  my  forgiveness  if  it 
were  so.  I  am  leading  a  beautiful  life  here,  dear 
love,  and  I  would  like  to  know  how  is  going  on  that 
of  Provence.  We  are  going  to  increase  our  family 
by  a  Spaniard  the  color  of  a  Havana  cigar,  and  I  am 
still  waiting  for  your  congratulations. 

Truly,  my  beautiful  Renee,  I  am  anxious,  I  am 
afraid  that  you  are  concealing  some  suffering  so  as 
not  to  sadden  my  joys,  wicked  one!  Write  me 
promptly  some  pages  in  which  you  will  describe  to 
me  your  life  in  its  smallest  trifles,  and  tell  me  truly 
if  you  still  resist,  if  your  freewill  is  on  its  two  feet, 
or  on  its  knees,  or  solidly  seated,  which  would  be 
grave.  Do  you  think  that  the  events  of  your  mar- 
riage do  not  preoccupy  me  ?  All  which  you  have 
written  to  me  makes  me  sometimes  thoughtful. 
Often,  when  at  the  Opera  I  seem  to  be  looking  at 
the  danseuses  making  pirouettes  I  say  to  myself: 
"It  is  half-past  nine  o'clock,  she  is  going  to  bed 
perhaps.  What  is  she  doing  ?  Is  she  happy  ?  Is 
she  alone  with  her  free  will  ?  or  has  her  free  will 
gone  where  go  the  wills  that  are  no  longer  thought 
of?—" 

A  thousand  tendernesses. 


164  MEMOIRS  OF 

XXV 

RENEE  DE  L'ESTORADE  TO  LOUISE  DE  CHAULIEU 

October. 

Impertinent!  why  should  I  have  written  to  you? 
what  should  I  have  said  to  you?  During  that  life 
animated  by  fetes,  by  the  anguishes  of  love,  by  its 
angers  and  by  its  flowers  which  you  depict  for  me, 
and  in  which  I  am  interested  as  in  a  theatrical  piece 
very  well  played,  I  lead  a  life  monotonous  and  reg- 
ulated after  the  manner  of  the  life  of  a  convent. 
We  are  always  in  bed  at  nine  o'clock  and  up  at 
daybreak.  Our  repasts  are  always  served  with  a 
distracting  exactitude.  Not  the  very  slightest  inci- 
dent. I  have  become  accustomed  to  this  division  of 
time,  and  without  too  much  trouble.  Perhaps  it  is 
natural, — what  would  life  be  without  this  subjec- 
tion to  fixed  rules  which,  according  to  the  astrono- 
mers and  Louis'  assertion,  govern  the  world. 
Order  does  not  weary.  Moreover,  I  have  imposed 
upon  myself  certain  obligations  of  the  toilet  which 
take  my  time  between  rising  and  the  dejeuner, — I 
intend  to  appear  at  it  charming,  through  obedience 
to  my  duties  as  a  woman,  I  experience  contentment 
from  it,  and  I  give  a  very  lively  one  to  the  good  old 
man  and  to  Louis.  We  take  a  walk  after  the 
dejeuner.  When  the  newspapers  arrive,  I  disappear 
to  attend  to  my  household  affairs  or  to  read,  for  I 
read  a  great  deal,  or  to  write  to  you.  I  come  back 
an  hour  before  the  dinner,  and  after  that  we  have 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  165 

cards,  we  receive  visits  or  we  pay  them.  I  pass 
my  days  thus  between  a  happy  old  man,  without 
desires,  and  a  man  for  whom  I  am  happiness.  Louis 
is  so  content,  that  his  joy  has  ended  by  warming 
my  soul.  Happiness,  for  us,  doubtless  should  not 
be  pleasure.  Sometimes,  in  the  evening,  when  I 
am  not  necessary  to  the  party,  when  I  am  ensconced 
in  the  depths  of  the  sofa,  my  imagination  is  suffi- 
ciently powerful  to  enable  me  to  enter  into  you, — I 
take  up  then  your  beautiful  life  so  fertile,  so  shaded, 
so  violently  agitated,  and  I  ask  myself  to  what  you 
will  conduct  these  turbulent  prefaces;  will  they  not 
kill  the  book?  You  can  have  the  illusions  of  love, 
you,  dear  mignonne;  but  I,  I  have  only  the  realities 
of  housekeeping.  Yes,  your  loves  seem  to  me  like 
a  dream!  Thus  I  had  trouble  in  understanding  why 
you  render  them  so  romantic.  You  wish  a  man  who 
should  have  more  of  soul  than  of  senses,  more  of 
grandeur  and  of  virtue  than  of  love;  you  wish  that 
the  dream  of  young  girls  at  their  entry  into  life 
should  take  a  bodily  form ;  you  demand  sacrifices 
in  order  to  reward  them;  you  submit  your  Felipe 
to  trials,  in  order  to  know  if  desire,  if  hope,  if  curi- 
osity, will  be  durable.  But,  child,  behind  your 
fantastic  decorations  rises  an  altar  where  is  being 
prepared  an  eternal  bond.  The  day  after  the  mar- 
riage, the  terrible  fact  which  changes  the  young 
girl  into  a  wife  and  the  lover  into  a  husband  can 
overthrow  the  elegant  scaffoldings  of  your  subtle 
precautions.  Know  then,  finally,  that  two  lovers, 
quite  as  much  so  as  two  married  persons  as  were 


166  MEMOIRS  OF 

Louis  and  I,  go  to  seek  under  the  joys  of  a  wedding, 
accepting  Rabelais's  word,  a  grand  Perhaps!  I  do 
not  blame  you,  although  that  might  be  considered  a 
little  light-minded,  for  talking  with  Don  Felipe  at 
the  end  of  the  garden,  for  interrogating  him,  for 
passing  a  night  on  your  balcony,  he  on  the  wall; 
but  you  play  with  life,  child,  and  I  am  afraid  that 
life  will  play  with  you.  I  do  not  dare  to  advise 
you  what  experience  suggests  to  me  for  your  happi- 
ness; but  let  me  repeat  to  you  again  from  the  bot- 
tom of  my  valley,  that  the  viaticum  of  marriage  is 
in  these  words, — resignation  and  devotion !  For,  I 
see,  notwithstanding  all  your  proofs,  notwithstand- 
ing your  coquetries  and  your  observations,  you  will 
marry  absolutely  as  I  did.  In  extending  desire, 
the  ditch  is  dug  a  little  bit  deeper,  that  is  all. 

Oh!  how  I  should  like  to  see  the  Baron  de  Macu- 
mer  and  talk  to  him  for  some  hours,  so  much  do  I 
desire  your  happiness ! 

XXVI 

LOUISE  DE   MACUMER   TO   RENEE    DE   L'ESTORADE 

March,  1825. 

As  Felipe  complied,  with  the  generosity  of  a 
Saracen,  with  the  plans  of  my  father  and  my  mother, 
by  acknowledging  the  receipt  of  my  fortune  without 
having  received  it,  the  duchess  became  still  more 
friendly  with  me  than  she  had  been  before.  She 
called  me  a  "sly  little  thing,"  a  "sharp  little  one," 
she  found  that  I  had  a  "shrewd  tongue." 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  167 

"But,  dear  mamma,"  I  said  to  her  the  day  before 
the  signing  of  the  contract,  "you  attribute  to  policy, 
to  craftiness,  to  skill,  what  are  really  the  effects  of 
the  truest  love,  the  most  ingenuous,  the  most  disin- 
terested, the  most  entire  that  ever  was!  I  would 
like  you  to  know  that  I  am  not  the  'shrewd  one' 
which  you  do  me  the  honor  to  take  me  to  be." 

"Well  then,  Armande,"  she  said  to  me,  taking 
me  by  the  neck,  drawing  me  toward  her,  kissing  me 
on  the  forehead,  "you  did  not  wish  to  return  to  the 
convent,  you  did  not  wish  to  remain  unmarried,  and, 
a  grand,  a  true  Chaulieu  that  you  are,  you  felt 
the  necessity  of  elevating  your  father's  house" — If 
you  knew,  Renee,  how  much  flattery  there  was  in 
this  speech  for  the  duke,  who  was  listening  to  us — 
"I  have  seen  you  during  a  whole  winter  thrusting 
your  little  nose  into  all  the  quadrilles,  sitting  in 
judgment  on  all  the  men  and  taking  the  measure  of 
the  actual  world  here  in  France.  Thus  you  were 
clever  enough  to  discover  the  only  Spaniard  who 
was  capable  of  giving  you  the  fine  life  of  a  woman 
who  is  mistress  in  her  own  household.  My  dear 
little  one,  you  have  treated  him  as  Tullia  treats 
your  brother. 

"What  a  fine  school  is  my  sister's  convent!"  cried 
my  father. 

I  threw  upon  my  father  a  look  which  cut  him 
short  in  his  speech ;  then  I  turned  towards  the  duch- 
ess again  and  said  to  her : 

"Madame,  I  love  my  intended,  Felipe  de  Soria, 
with  all  the  powers  of  my  soul.  Although  this 


168  MEMOIRS  OF 

love  was  quite  involuntary  and  very  much  struggled 
against  when  it  rose  in  my  heart,  I  swear  to  you 
that  I  only  abandoned  myself  to  it  from  the  moment 
in  which  I  recognized  in  the  Baron  de  Macumer  a 
soul  worthy  of  my  own,  a  heart  in  which  the  deli- 
cacies, the  generosities,  the  devotion,  the  character 
and  the  sentiments  were  conformable  to  my  own." 

"But  my  dear,"  she  resumed,  interrupting  me, 
"he  is  as  ugly  as — " 

"As  anything  you  wish,"  I  said  quickly,  "but  I 
love  his  ugliness." 

"Come,  Armande, "  said  my  father  to  me,  "if 
you  love  him  and  if  you  have  had  the  strength  to 
master  your  love,  you  need  not  risk  your  happiness. 
Now,  happiness  depends  a  great  deal  on  the  first 
days  of  marriage — " 

"And  why  not  say  to  her  on  the  first  nights?" 
cried  my  mother.  "Let  us  alone,  monsieur,"  added 
the  duchess  looking  at  my  father. 

"You  are  going  to  be  married  in  three  days,  my 
dear  little  one,"  said  my  mother  in  my  ear;  "I 
should  therefore  make  to  you  now,  without  any 
bourgeois  whimperings,  the  serious  recommenda- 
tion which  all  mothers  make  to  their  daughters. 
You  are  going  to  marry  a  man  whom  you  love, — 
thus  I  have  nothing  to  complain  of  for  you,  nor  to 
complain  of  myself.  I  have  only  seen  you  for  the 
space  of  a  year, — if  this  has  been  enough  to  make 
me  love  you,  it  has  not  necessarily  been  long 
enough  for  me  to  melt  into  tears  because  of  the  loss 
of  your  company.  Your  wit  has  surpassed  your 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  169 

beauty;  you  have  flattered  me  in  my  maternal  self- 
love,  and  you  have  conducted  yourself  like  a  good 
and  affectionate  daughter.  Thus  you  will  always 
find  me  an  excellent  mother.  You  smile! — Alas! 
very  frequently,  in  situations  in  which  the  mother 
and  the  daughter  would  have  lived  together  well, 
the  two  women  fall  out.  I  wish  you  to  be  happy. 
Listen  to  me  then.  The  love  which  you  feel  is  a 
young  girl's  love,  the  love  natural  to  all  women 
who  are  born  for  the  purpose  of  attaching  themselves 
to  a  man;  but  alas!  my  little  one,  there  is  only  one 
man  in  the  world  for  us,  there  are  not  two!  and 
that  one  whom  we  should  prefer  to  cherish  is  not 
always  that  one  whom  we  have  chosen  for  a  hus- 
band, even  when  believing  that  we  loved  him. 
However  singular  my  words  may  appear  to  you, 
think  upon  them.  If  we  do  not  love  the  one  whom 
we  have  chosen,  the  fault  of  it  js  in  us  and  in  him, 
sometimes  in  circumstances  for  which  neither  we 
nor  he  are  responsible;  and  nevertheless  nothing 
prevents  him  from  being  the  man  to  whom  our  fam- 
ily has  given  us,  the  man  to  whom  our  heart  turns, 
who  should  be  the  man  loved.  The  barriers  which 
later  arise  between  him  and  us  are  often  owing  to  a 
sudden  defect  of  perseverance  on  our  part  and  that 
of  our  husband.  To  make  of  her  husband  her  lover 
is  a  task  as  delicate  as  that  of  making  of  her  lover 
her  husband,  and  you  have  acquitted  yourself  of 
yours  marvelously.  Well,  I  repeat  it  to  you,  I  wish 
to  see  you  happy.  Reflect  then  that  from  the 
present  time  during  the  first  three  months  of  your 


170  MEMOIRS  OF 

marriage  you  may  become  unhappy  if,  on  your  side, 
you  do  not  submit  to  marriage  with  the  obedience, 
the  tenderness  and  the  spirit  which  you  have  dis- 
played in  your  love-making.  For,  my  little  sly 
one,  you  have  allowed  yourself  to  take  all  the  inno- 
cent happinesses  of  a  clandestine  love.  If  happy 
love  should  commence  for  you  by  disenchantments, 
by  displeasures,  by  sorrows  even,  well  then,  come 
and  see  me.  Do  not  hope  too  much  at  first  of  mar- 
riage, it  will  give  you  perhaps  more  pains  than  joys. 
Your  happiness  will  require  as  much  careful  culture 
as  love  requires.  Finally,  if  by  chance  you  should 
lose  the  lover,  you  may  find  in  his  place  the  father 
of  your  children.  There,  my  dear  child,  is  the 
whole  of  social  life.  Sacrifice  everything  to  the 
man  whose  name  is  yours,  whose  honor,  whose 
consideration,  cannot  receive  the  slightest  dispar- 
agement without  its  causing  to  you  the  most  fright- 
ful injury.  To  sacrifice  everything  to  her  husband 
is  not  only  an  absolute  duty  for  the  women  of  our 
rank,  it  is  still  more,  the  most  politic  conduct.  The 
very  finest  attribute  of  the  great  principles  of 
morality,  is  to  be  true  and  beneficial,  from  which- 
ever side  they  are  studied.  Well,  this  is  enough 
for  you.  At  present,  I  think  you  are  inclined  to 
jealousy;  and  I,  my  dear,  I  am  jealous  also! — but  I 
would  not  have  you  stupidly  jealous.  Listen,— 
jealousy  which  shows  itself  is  like  that  policy 
which  plays  with  its  cards  on  the  table.  To  show 
yourself  jealous,  to  let  it  be  seen,  is  not  that  to 
show  your  own  play?  We  shall  then  know  nothing 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  171 

of  the  play  of  our  adversary.  In  every  case,  we 
should  know  how  to  suffer  in  silence.  I  will  have, 
moreover,  a  serious  interview  with  Macumer  con- 
cerning you  the  day  before  your  marriage." 

I  took  my  mother's  beautiful  arm  and  kissed  her 
hand,  dropping  upon  it  a  tear  which  the  accent  of 
her  voice  had  drawn  from  my  eyes.  I  had  recog- 
nized in  this  high  morality,  worthy  of  herself  and 
of  me,  the  most  profound  wisdom,  a  tenderness  with- 
out social  bigotry,  and  above  all  a  true  estimate  of 
my  character.  In  these  simple  words,  she  had  put 
the  summing  up  of  the  instruction  which  her  life 
and  her  experience  had  perhaps  sold  to  her  dearly. 
She  was  touched  and  said  to  me  looking  at  me : 

"Dear  little  girl,  you  are  entering  on  a  terrible 
passage.  And  the  greater  number  of  women,  igno- 
rant or  undeceived,  are  capable  of  imitating  the 
Count  of  Westmoreland!" 

We  commenced  to  laugh.  To  explain  to  you  this 
pleasantry,  I  must  say  to  you  that  at  the  table,  the 
day  before,  a  Russian  princess  had  related  to  us  the 
story  of  the  Count  of  Westmoreland  who,  having 
suffered  dreadfully  from  sea-sickness  during  the 
passage  of  the  Channel  and  intending  to  go  to  Italy, 
turned  round  and  went  home  when  he  heard  of  the 
passage  of  the  Alps, — "I  have  had  enough  of  pas- 
sages like  that!"  said  he.  You  understand  Renee, 
that  your  sombre  philosophy  and  my  mother's  lec- 
ture were  of  a  nature  to  re-awaken  the  fears  which 
agitated  us  at  Blois.  The  nearer  the  marriage 
approached,  the  more  I  gathered  up  within  me  my 


172  MEMOIRS  OF 

strength,  my  will,  my  sentiments  to  enable  me  to 
make  the  terrible  passage  from  the  state  of  a  young 
girl  to  the  state  of  a  wife.  All  our  conversations 
returned  to  my  mind,  I  re-read  your  letters,  and  1 
discovered  in  them  I  know  not  what  hidden  melan- 
choly. These  apprehensions  have  had  the  merit  of 
making  me  appear  just  like  the  commonplace  fiancee 
of  popular  engravings  and  of  the  public.  Thus  the 
world  found  me  charming  and  very  much  as  I  should 
be  the  day  of  the  signing  of  the  contract.  This 
morning,  at  the  Mayor's  office,  where  we  went 
without  ceremony,  there  were  only  the  witnesses. 
I  am  finishing  this  scrap  of  letter  while  they  are 
getting  ready  my  toilet  for  the  dinner.  We  will  be 
married  at  the  church  of  Sainte-Valere,  this  evening 
at  midnight,  after  a  brilliant  soiree.  I  admit  that 
my  fears  give  me  the  air  of  a  victim  and  a  false 
modesty  which  secure  for  me  admirations  which  I 
do  not  in  the  least  understand.  I  am  delighted  to 
see  my  poor  Felipe  quite  as  much  of  a  young  girl 
as  I  am;  the  world  hurts  him,  he  is  like  a  bat  in  a 
glass  box. 

"Happily  this  day  has  a  to-morrow!"  he  said  to 
me  in  my  ear  without  meaning  any  malice. 

He  would  not  wish  to  see  anyone,  so  timid  and 
shamefaced  is  he.  When  he  came  to  sign  our  con- 
tract, the  Ambassador  of  Sardinia  took  me  aside  to 
offer  me  a  necklace  of  pearls  attached  by  six  mag- 
nificent diamonds.  It  is  the  gift  of  my  sister-in- 
law,  the  Duchesse  de  Soria.  This  necklace  is 
accompanied  by  a  bracelet  of  sapphires  under  which 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  173 

is  engraved:  I  love  you  without  knowing  you.  Two 
charming  letters  enclosed  these  gifts,  which  I  did 
not  wish  to  accept  without  knowing  if  Felipe  would 
permit  me. 

"For,"  I  said  to  him,  "I  would  only  wish  you  to 
see  that  which  came  from  me." 

He  kissed  my  hand,  much  moved,  and  replied  to 
me: 

"Wear  them  because  of  the  inscription,  and  of 
these  tokens  of  tenderness  which  are  sincere  —  " 

Saturday  evening. 

Here  then,  my  poor  Renee,  are  the  last  lines  of  a 
young  girl.  After  the  midnight  mass,  we  will  set 
out  for  an  estate  which  Felipe,  with  a  delicate  at- 
tention, has  purchased  in  Nivernais,  on  the  road  to 
Provence.  I  call  myself  already  Louise  de  Macu- 
mer,  but  I  leave  Paris  in  a  few  hours  as  Louise  de 
Chaulieu.  In  whatever  fashion  I  call  myself,  there 
will  never  be  anything  for  you  but 

LOUISE. 


XXVII 

THE  SAME  TO  THE  SAME 

October,  1825.   ' 

I  have  written  you  nothing  more,  dear,  since  the 
civil  marriage,  and  here  it  will  be  soon  eight 
months.  As  for  you,  not  a  word  !  This  is  horrible, 
madame. 


174  MEMOIRS  OF 

Well,  we  then  departed  in  post  carriages  for  the 
Chateau  de  Chantepleurs,  the  estate  bought  by 
Macumer  in  Nivernais,  on  the  banks  of  the  Loire, 
sixty  leagues  from  Paris.  Our  servants,  with  the 
exception  of  my  femme  de  chambre,  were  already 
there,  waiting  for  us,  and  we  arrived  there  with  great 
promptness  the  evening  of  the  next  day.  I  slept 
from  Paris  to  beyond  Montargis.  The  only  license 
which  my  lord  and  master  had  taken  had  been  to 
support  me  by  the  waist,  holding  my  head  on  his 
shoulder,  on  which  he  had  disposed  several  hand- 
kerchiefs. This  almost  maternal  attention  which 
caused  him  to  overcome  slumber  gave  me  an  in- 
describable emotion.  Put  to  sleep  under  the  fire 
of  his  black  eyes,  I  awakened  under  their  flame,— 
the  same  ardor,  the  same  love ;  but  thousands  of 
thoughts  had  passed  that  way !  He  had  kissed  me 
twice  on  the  forehead. 

We  breakfasted  in  our  carriage  at  Briare.  The 
evening  of  the  next  day,  at  half-past  seven,  after 
having  talked  as  I  used  to  talk  with  you  at  Blois, 
admiring  that  Loire  which  we  used  to  admire,  we 
entered  the  long  and  handsome  avenue  of  linden 
trees,  of  acacias,  of  sycamores  and  of  larch  trees, 
which  conducts  to  Chantepleurs.  At  eight  o'clock 
we  dined;  at  ten  o'clock,  we  were  in  a  charming 
Gothic  chamber  embellished  with  all  the  inventions 
of  modern  luxury.  My  Felipe,  whom  all  the  world 
thinks  ugly,  seemed  to  me  very  beautiful,  beautiful 
with  goodness,  with  grace,  with  tenderness,  with 
exquisite  delicacy.  Of  the  desires  of  love,  I  did 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  175 

not  see  the  slightest  trace.  During  the  journey,  he 
had  conducted  himself  as  though  he  were  a  friend 
whom  I  had  known  for  fifteen  years.  He  had  painted 
for  me,  as  he  knows  how  to  paint — he  always  ex- 
presses his  first  thoughts — the  frightful  storms  which 
had  raged  within  him  and  the  traces  of  which  had 
disappeared  from  his  countenance. 

"Up  to  the  present,  there  is  nothing  very  fright- 
ful in  marriage,"  I  said  going  to  the  window  and 
looking  out  in  the  superb  moonlight  over  a  delight- 
ful park  from  which  rose  penetrating  odors. 

He  came  close  to  me,  took  me  round  the  waist 
again  and  said  to  me : 

"And  why  be  frightened?  Have  I  belied  by  a 
gesture,  by  a  look,  my  promises?  Shall  I  belie 
them  some  day?" 

Never  had  a  voice,  never  had  a  look,  such  a 
power:  the  voice  thrilled  me  through  all  the  finest 
fibres  of  my  body  and  stirred  all  the  feelings;  the 
look  had  a  strength  like  the  sun's. 

"Oh!"  I  said  to  him,  "how  much  of  Moorish  per- 
fidy is  there  not  in  your  perpetual  slavery!" 

My  dear,  he  understood  me. 

Therefore,  beautiful  lamb,  if  I  have  not  written 
to  you  for  some  months,  you  will  now  understand 
why.  I  am  compelled  to  recall  to  myself  the 
strange  past  of  the  young  girl  in  order  to  explain  to 
you  the  wife.  Renee,  I  understand  you  to-day.  It 
is  neither  to  an  intimate  friend,  nor  to  her  mother, 
nor  perhaps  to  herself,  that  the  happy  young  bride 
can  speak  of  her  happy  marriage.  We  must  leave 


176  MEMOIRS  OF 

this  memory  in  our  souls  as  one  sentiment  the  more 
which  belongs  to  us  in  ourselves  and  for  which 
there  is  no  name.  How!  the  graceful  follies  of  the 
heart  and  the  irresistible  drawing  of  desire  have  been 
called  a  duty.  And  why?  What  horrible  power 
has  then  conceived  the  idea  of  obliging  us  to  trample 
under  our  feet  the  delicacies  of  taste,  the  thousand 
modesties  of  the  woman,  by  converting  these  de- 
lights into  a  duty.  How  can  one  owe  these  flowers 
of  the  soul,  these  roses  of  life,  these  poems  of  ex- 
alted sensibility,  to  a  being  whom  one  does  not 
love?  Rights  in  such  sensations  as  these!  but  they 
are  born  and  they  expand  in  the  sunshine  of  love, 
or  their  germs  are  destroyed  under  the  coldness  of 
repugnance  and  aversion.  It  is  for  love  alone  to 
entertain  such  enchantments!  Oh,  my  sublime 
Renee,  now  I  know  that  you  are  very  great !  I  bow 
the  knee  before  you,  I  am  astonished  at  your  depth 
and  at  your  perspicacity.  Yes,  the  woman  who  has 
not,  as  I  have,  made  a  secret  marriage  of  love  con- 
cealed under  the  legal  and  public  wedding  ceremo- 
nies should  throw  herself  into  maternity  as  a  soul  for 
whom  the  world  fails  should  throw  itself  into 
Heaven!  From  all  that  which  you  have  written  to 
me  there  is  deduced  a  cruel  principle, — it  is  only 
the  superior  men  who  know  how  to  love.  To-day 
I  know  why.  Man  obeys  two  principles.  There 
are  to  be  met  with  in  him  need  and  feeling.  The 
inferior  or  feeble  beings  take  the  need  for  the  feel- 
ing; while  the  superior  souls  cover  up  the  need 
under  the  admirable  appearances  of  the  feeling: 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  177 

feeling  communicates  to  them  by  its  violence  an 
excessive  reserve,  and  inspires  them  to  the  admira- 
tion of  the  woman.  Evidently  the  sensibility  is  in 
proportion  to  the  power  of  the  interior  organization, 
and  the  man  of  genius  is  therefore  the  only  one 
who  can  approach  our  delicacy, — he  hears,  divines, 
comprehends  the  woman;  he  lifts  himself  on  the 
wings  of  his  desire  restrained  by  the  timidities  of 
feeling.  Thus  when  the  intelligence,  the  heart  and 
the  senses,  all  equally  intoxicated,  carry  us  away, 
is  it  not  again  on  the  earth  that  we  fall ;  one  is  lifted 
into  the  celestial  spheres,  and  unfortunately  one 
does  not  remain  there  long  enough.  Such  is,  my 
dear  soul,  the  philosophy  of  the  first  three  months 
of  my  marriage.  Felipe  is  an  angel.  I  can  think 
aloud  with  him.  Without  any  rhetorical  figure,  he 
is  another  myself.  His  grandeur  is  inexplicable: 
he  attaches  himself  still  more  strongly  by  posses- 
sion, and  discovers  in  happiness  new  reasons  for 
loving.  I  am  for  him  the  finest  part  of  himself.  I 
see  it, — the  years  of  marriage,  far  from  altering  the 
object  of  his  delights,  will  augment  his  confidence, 
will  develop  new  sensibilities  and  will  strengthen 
our  union.  What  a  happy  delirium !  My  soul  is  so 
constituted  that  pleasures  leave  in  me  strong  lights, 
they  impart  to  me  a  glow,  they  renew  themselves 
in  my  interior  being:  the  interval  which  separates 
them  is  like  the  short  night  of  the  long  day.  The 
sun  which  has  gilded  their  summits  at  its  setting 
finds  them  still  almost  warm  at  his  rising.  By 
what  happy  chance  was  this  so  promptly  provided 

12 


178  MEMOIRS  OF 

for  me  ?  My  mother  had  awakened  in  me  a  thou- 
sand fears;  her  forebodings,  which  seemed  to  me 
full  of  jealousy,  although  without  the  slightest 
bourgeois  littleness,  have  been  deceived  by  the 
result,  for  your  fears  and  hers,  mine,  all  have  been 
dissipated!  We  remained  at  Chantepleurs  seven 
months  and  a  half,  like  two  lovers,  one  of  whom 
has  carried  off  the  other,  and  who  have  fled  from 
angry  parents.  The  roses  of  pleasure  have  crowned 
our  love,  they  deck  our  double  life.  Through  a  sud- 
den return  to  my  former  self,  one  morning  when  I 
was  more  fully  happy,  I  thought  of  my  Renee  and 
of  her  marriage  of  convenience,  and  I  divined  your 
life,  I  have  penetrated  it!  Oh  my  angel,  why  do 
we  speak  a  different  language?  Your  marriage 
purely  social  and  my  marriage  which  is  only  a 
happy  love  are  two  worlds  which  can  no  more  com- 
prehend each  other  than  the  finite  can  comprehend 
the  infinite.  You  remain  on  the  earth,  I  am  in 
heaven !  You  are  in  the  human  sphere,  and  I  am  in 
the  divine  sphere.  I  reign  by  love,  you  reign  by 
design  and  by  duty.  I  am  so  high,  that,  if  there 
should  be  a  fall,  I  should  be  broken  into  a  thousand 
crumbs.  In  short  I  should  keep  silent,  for  1  am 
ashamed  to  depict  to  you  the  splendor,  the  richness, 
the  glittering  joys  of  such  a  springtime  of  love. 

We  have  been  at  Paris  for  the  last  ten  days,  in 
the  charming  hotel,  in  the  Rue  du  Bac,  constructed 
by  the  architect  to  whom  Felipe  has  given  a  com- 
mission to  alter  Chantepleurs.  I  have  just  heard, 
with  my  soul  expanded  by  the  permitted  pleasures 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  179 

of  a  happy  marriage,  the  celestial  music  of  Rossini 
which  I  had  heard  with  my  soul  disquieted,  tor- 
mented unknown  to  myself  by  the  curiosities  of 
love.  I  am  generally  considered  to  be  looking  bet- 
ter, and  I  am  like  a  child  when  I  hear  myself  called 
madame. 

Friday  morning. 

Renee,  my  beautiful  saint,  my  happiness  brings 
me  back  ceaselessly  to  you.  I  feel  myself  better 
for  you  than  I  have  ever  been ;  I  am  so  devoted  to 
you!  I  have  so  profoundly  studied  your  conjugal 
life  by  the  commencement  of  mine,  and  I  see  you  so 
grand,  so  noble,  so  magnificently  virtuous,  that  I 
constitute  myself  here  your  inferior,  your  sincere 
admirer  at  the  same  time  as  your  friend.  In  seeing 
what  my  marriage  is,  it  is  nearly  proven  to  me  that 
I  should  have  died  if  it  had  bee-n  otherwise.  And 
you  live?  by  what  sentiment,  tell  it  to  me?  But  I 
will  not  permit  myself  the  slightest  pleasantry  at 
your  expense.  Alas!  pleasantry,  my  angel,  is  the 
daughter  of  ignorance :  we  mock  at  that  of  which 
we  know  nothing.  "Where  the  recruits  commence 
to  laugh,  the  old  soldiers  are  grave,"  said  to  me  the 
Comte  de  Chaulieu,  a  poor  captain  of  cavalry  who 
has  not  yet  been  farther  than  from  Paris  to  Fontaine- 
bleau  and  from  Fontainebleau  to  Paris.  Thus,  my 
dear  beloved,  I  see  clearly  that  you  have  not  told 
me  all.  Yes,  you  have  hidden  from  me  some 
wounds.  You  suffer,  I  feel  it  I  have  made  for 
myself  apropos  of  you  certain  romances  of  ideas 


180  MEMOIRS  OF 

while  wishing  at  a  distance,  and  through  the  little 
which  you  have  said  to  me  of  yourself,  to  discover 
the  reasons  of  your  conduct.  She  has  only  tried 
marriage,  I  thought  one  evening,  and  that  which  is 
happiness  for  me  has  only  been  suffering  for  her. 
She  has  had  of  it  only  her  sacrifices,  and  wishes  to 
limit  their  number.  She  has  disguised  her  griefs 
under  the  pompous  axioms  of  social  morality.  Ah, 
Renee,  there  is  in  this  something  admirable,  a 
pleasure  has  no  need  of  religion,  of  display,  nor  of 
great  words,  it  is  everything  for  itself;  whilst,  to 
justify  the  atrocious  combination  of  our  slavery  and 
of  our  vassalage,  men  have  accumulated  theories 
and  maxims.  If  your  immolations  are  beautiful, 
are  sublime,  my  happiness,  sheltered  under  the 
white  and  gold  canopy  of  the  church  and  signed  and 
witnessed  by  the  dullest  of  mayors,  must  be  then  a 
monstrosity!  For  the  honor  of  the  laws,  for  you, 
but  above  all  to  render  my  own  pleasures  complete, 
I  would  wish  you  to  be  happy,  my  Renee.  Oh! 
tell  me  that  you  feel  coming  into  your  heart  a  little 
love  for  that  Louis  who  adores  you  ?  Tell  me  that 
the  symbolic  and  solemn  torch  of  Hymen  has  not 
served  you  only  to  light  up  shadows?  for  love,  my 
angel,  is  quite  exactly  for  the  moral  nature  what 
the  sun  is  for  the  earth.  I  am  always  coming  back 
to  speak  to  you  of  that  light  which  enlightens  me 
and  which,  as  I  fear,  will  consume  me.  Dear  Renee, 
you  who  used  to  say  in  your  ecstasies  of  friendship, 
under  the  vine  arbor  at  the  back  of  the  convent, 
"I  love  you  so  much,  Louise,  that,  if  God  should 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  l8l 

manifest  himself,  I  would  ask  of  him  all  the  pain 
and  for  you  all  the  joys  of  life.  Yes,  I  have  the 
passion  of  suffering!"  Well  my  dear,  to-day  I  do 
the  same  for  you,  and  demand  of  God  with  great 
cries  that  we  should  share  my  pleasures  between 
us. 

Listen:  I  have  guessed  that  you  have  become 
ambitious  yourself  under  the  name  of  Louis  de 
1'Estorade;  well,  at  the  coming  election,  have  him 
named  deputy,  for  he  will  be  nearly  forty,  and  as 
the  Chamber  will  not  assemble  till  six  months  after 
the  election,  he  will  find  himself  precisely  at  the 
age  required  for  a  man  to  enter  political  life.  You 
will  come  to  Paris,  I  say  only  that  to  you.  My 
father  and  the  friends  whom  I  am  making  for  myself 
will  appreciate  you,  and  if  your  old  father-in-law 
will  secure  a  majorat  we  will  obtain  the  title  of 
count  for  Louis.  It  will  be  that  already !  Finally 
we  shall  be  together. 

XXVIII 
RENEE  DE   L'ESTORADE   TO   LOUISE   DE    MACUMER 

December,  1825. 

My  very  happy  Louise,  you  have  bedazzled  me. 
I  have  been  holding  for  some  moments  your  letter 
on  which  some  of  my  tears  shone  in  the  light  of  the 
setting  sun,  my  arms  weary,  alone  under  a  little 
arid  rock  at  the  base  of  which  I  have  caused  a  bench 
to  be  put  In  the  distance,  like  a  steel  blade, 


182  MEMOIRS  OF 

shines  the  Mediterranean.  Some  odoriferous  trees 
shade  this  bench  where  I  have  caused  to  be  trans- 
planted an  enormous  jasmine,  honeysuckles  and 
some  Spanish  genistas.  Some  day  the  rock  will  be 
entirely  covered  with  climbing  plants.  There  is 
already  much  of  the  creeper  that  was  planted  here. 
But  winter  has  come  and  all  this  verdure  has  become 
like  an  old  tapestry.  When  I  am  here,  no  one  comes 
to  trouble  me,  it  is  known  that  I  wish  to  be  alone. 
This  bench  is  called  Louise's  bench.  Does  not  that 
say  to  you  that  I  am  not  alone,  although  alone? 

If  I  relate  to  you  these  details,  so  slight  for  you, 
if  I  depict  for  you  this  verdant  hope  which,  in  antic- 
ipation, clothes  this  bare  and  frowning  rock,  on  the 
top  of  which  the  chance  of  vegetation  has  placed 
one  of  the  very  finest  umbelliferous  pines,  it  is  that 
I  have  found  here  images  to  which  I  am  attached. 

In  enjoying  your  happy  marriage — and  why  should 
I  not  avow  to  you  all  ? — in  envying  it  with  all  my 
strength,  I  felt  the  first  movement  of  my  child  who 
from  the  depths  of  my  life  has  reacted  on  the  depths 
of  my  soul.  This  dumb  sensation,  at  once  a  notice, 
a  pleasure,  a  sorrow,  a  promise,  a  reality;  this  hap- 
piness which  is  mine  only  in  the  world  and  which 
remains  a  secret  between  God  and  myself;  this 
mystery  has  said  to  me  that  the  rock  will  be  one 
day  covered  with  flowers,  that  the  joyous  laughter 
of  a  family  will  re-echo  from  it,  that  my  entrails 
are  finally  blessed  and  will  give  life  to  multitudes. 
I  felt  that  I  was  born  to  be  a  mother !  Therefore 
the  first  certainty  which  I  have  had  of  carrying 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  183 

within  me  another  life  has  given  me  beneficent  con- 
solations. An  immense  joy  has  crowned  all  these 
long  days  of  devotion  which  have  already  made  the 
joy  of  Louis. 

Devotion!  I  said  to  myself,  art  thou  not  more 
than  love?  art  thou  not  the  most  profound  delight, 
because  thou  art  an  abstract  delight,  the  generating 
delight?  Art  thou  not,  O  Devotion,  the  quality 
which  is  superior  to  the  effect  produced  ?  art  thou 
not  the  mysterious  indefatigable  divinity  hidden 
under  the  innumerable  spheres  in  an  unknown 
centre  by  which  all  the  worlds  pass  alternately? 
Devotion,  alone  in  its  secret,  full  of  pleasures  tasted 
in  silence  on  which  no  profane  eye  is  cast  and  which 
no  one  suspects,  Devotion,  a  jealous  and  over- 
whelming God,  a  God  vanquishing  and  strong,  in- 
exhaustible because  it  has  relations  with  the  very 
nature  of  things  and  that  it  is  thus  always  equal  to 
itself,  notwithstanding  the  distribution  of  its  forces, 
Devotion,  this  is  then  the  seal  of  my  life! 

Love,  Louise,  is  an  effort  of  Felipe  on  yourself ;  but 
the  radiation  of  my  life  upon  the  family  will  produce 
an  incessant  reaction  of  this  little  world  on  myself! 
Your  pretty  golden  harvest  is  transient;  but  mine, 
for  being  delayed,  will  it  not  be  all  the  more  dura- 
ble? It  will  renew  itself  from  moment  to  moment 
Love  is  the  prettiest  larceny  which  Society  has 
been  able  to  perpetrate  on  Nature ;  but  maternity, 
is  not  that  Nature  in  her  joy?  A  smile  has  dried 
my  tears.  Love  has  rendered  my  Louis  happy; 
but  marriage  has  made  me  mother  and  I  wish  to  be 


1 84  MEMOIRS  OF 

happy  also!  Then  I  came  back  with  slow  steps  to 
my  white  country  house  with  green  blinds  to  write 
you  this. 

Then,  dear,  the  fact  the  most  natural  and  the  most 
surprising  that  we  can  have  has  been  established 
within  me  for  the  last  five  months ;  but  I  can  confide 
it  to  you  that  it  does  not  trouble  in  any  way,  either 
my  heart  or  my  intelligence.  I  see  them  all  happy 
— the  future  grandfather  encroaches  upon  the  rights 
of  his  grandson,  he  has  become  like  an  infant;  the 
father  assumes  grave  and  unquiet  airs;  they  are  all 
full  of  little  cares  for  me,  all  speaking  of  the  happi- 
ness of  being  mother.  Alas!  I  alone  feel  nothing, 
and  do  not  dare  to  tell  of  the  state  of  perfect  insen- 
sibility in  which  I  am.  I  lie  a  little  not  to  sadden 
their  joy.  As  it  is  permitted  to  me  to  be  frank 
with  you,  I  avow  to  you  that,  in  the  crisis  in  which 
I  find  myself,  maternity  only  commences  in  imagi- 
nation. Louis  was  as  much  surprised  as  I  myself  to 
learn  of  my  pregnancy.  Is  this  not  to  say  to  you 
that  this  infant  has  come  of  his  own  accord,  with- 
out having  been  summoned  otherwise  than  by  the 
impatiently  expressed  wishes  of  his  father  ?  Chance, 
my  dear,  is  the  god  of  maternity.  Although,  ac- 
cording to  our  physician,  these  hazards  are  in  har- 
mony with  the  will  of  nature,  he  has  not  denied  to 
me  that  the  children  which  are  called  so  gracefully 
"love  children"  should  be  handsome  and  clever; 
that  their  life  is  often  as  it  were  protected  by  the 
happiness  which  had  radiated,  brilliant  star!  at 
their  conception.  Perhaps  then,  my  Louise,  you 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  185 

will  have  in  your  maternity  joys  of  which  I  should 
be  ignorant  in  mine.  Perhaps  it  will  be  better 
loved,  the  child  of  a  man  adored  as  you  adore  Felipe, 
than  that  of  a  husband  whom  one  has  married  through 
reason,  to  whom  one  has  given  one's  self  through 
duty,  and,  in  short,  merely  to  be  a  wife!  These 
thoughts,  guarded  in  the  bottom  of  my  heart,  add  to 
my  gravity  of  mother  in  hope.  But,  as  there  is  no 
family  life  without  a  child,  my  desire  would  be  to 
hasten  the  moment  in  which  will  commence  for  me 
the  pleasures  of  a  family,  which  should  be  my  sole 
existence.  At  this  moment,  my  life  is  a  life  of 
waiting  and  of  mysteries,  in  which  the  most  nau- 
seating suffering  doubtless  accustoms  the  woman  to 
other  sufferings.  I  watch  myself.  Notwithstand- 
ing the  efforts  of  Louis,  whose  love  envelops  me  in 
cares,  gentlenesses,  in  tendernesses,  I  have  vague 
anxieties  with  which  are  mingled  the  disgusts,  the 
troubles,  the  singular  appetites  of  pregnancy.  If 
I  must  relate  to  you  things  as  they  are,  at  the  risk 
of  causing  you  some  aversion  to  the  occupation,  I 
avow  to  you  that  I  cannot  understand  the  whim 
which  I  have  taken  for  certain  oranges,  a  grotesque 
taste  and  one  which  I  find  quite  natural.  My  hus- 
band goes  to  seek  for  me  in  Marseilles  the  finest 
oranges  in  the  world;  he  orders  them  from  Malta, 
from  Portugal,  from  Corsica ;  but  with  these  oranges 
I  will  have  nothing  to  do.  I  hasten  to  Marseilles 
sometimes  on  foot,  to  devour  there  bad  oranges  at 
a  Hard  apiece,  almost  rotten,  in  a  little  street  which 
descends  to  the  port,  at  two  steps  from  the  H6tel  de 


1 86  MEMOIRS  OF 

Ville;  and  their  bluish  or  greenish  mouldiness  glit- 
ters in  my  eyes  like  diamonds, — I  see  in  it  flowers 
as  it  were,  I  have  no  consciousness  of  their  cadaver- 
ous odor  and  find  in  them  an  irritating  savor,  a 
vinous  warmth,  delicious  taste.  Well,  my  angel, 
here  you  have  the  first  amorous  sensations  of  my 
life.  These  frightful  oranges  are  my  loves.  You 
do  not  desire  Felipe  as  much  as  I  wish  for  one  of 
these  half-rotten  fruits.  In  short,  I  steal  out  some- 
times furtively,  I  gallop  to  Marseilles  with  a  light 
foot,  and  I  am  seized  with  voluptuous  shiverings 
when  I  approach  the  street, — I  fear  that  the  mer- 
chant may  have  no  more  rotten  oranges,  I  throw 
myself  upon  them,  I  eat  them,  I  devour  them  in  the 
open  street  It  seems  to  me  that  these  fruits  come 
from  Paradise  and  contain  the  most  delicious  nour- 
ishment I  have  seen  Louis  turn  his  head  not  to 
smell  their  bad  odor.  I  remember  that  atrocious 
phrase  of  Obermann,  sombre  elegy  which  I  repent 
having  read:  "The  roots  nourish  themselves  in  a 
fetid  water !"  Since  I  have  been  eating  these  fruits, 
I  have  had  no  more  heart  troubles  and  my  health 
has  become  re-established.  These  depravations 
have  a  reason,  since  they  are  a  natural  effect  and 
since  half  the  women  experience  these  desires, 
monstrous  sometimes.  When  my  pregnancy  be- 
comes very  visible,  I  will  no  longer  go  outside  of 
LaCrampade, — I  should  not  like  to  be  seen  in  that 
condition. 

I  am  excessively  curious  to  know  at  what  moment 
of  the  life  maternity  commences.     I  very  much  fear 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  187 

that  it  will  only  be  in  the  midst  of  frightful  suffer- 
ing. 

Adieu,  my  happy  one !  adieu,  you  in  whom  I  am 
born  again  and  by  whom  I  picture  to  myself  these 
beautiful  loves,  these  jealousies  because  of  a  look, 
these  words  whispered  in  the  ear  and  these  pleas- 
ures which  envelop  us  like  another  atmosphere, 
another  blood,  another  light,  another  life!  Ah, 
mignonne,  I  also,  I  comprehend  love.  Do  not  cease 
to  tell  me  everything.  Let  us  keep  to  our  conven- 
tion. For  myself,  I  will  spare  you  nothing.  Thus 
I  will  say  to  you,  to  finish  this  letter  gravely,  that 
in  re-reading  it  a  profound  and  invincible  terror  has 
seized  me.  It  seemed  to  me  that  this  splendid  love 
defied  God.  The  sovereign  master  of  the  world, 
Misfortune,  will  he  not  be  angry  not  to  have  his  part 
in  your  festival  ?  What  superb  fortunes  has  he  not 
overthrown !  Ah  Louise,  do  not  forget,  in  the  midst  of 
your  happiness,  to  pray  to  God.  Do  good,  be  char- 
itable and  benevolent;  in  short  conjure  the  adver- 
sities by  your  modesty.  For  myself,  I  have  become 
still  more  pious  since  my  marriage  than  I  was  at 
the  convent  You  do  not  say  anything  to  me  of 
religion  in  Paris.  In  adoring  Felipe,  it  seems  to 
me  that  you  address  yourself,  contrary  to  the  proverb, 
more  to  the  saint  than  to  God.  But  my  terror  is 
excessive  friendship.  You  go  together  to  the  church, 
and  you  practise  your  charities  in  secret,  do  you  not? 
You  will  find  me  perhaps  very  provincial  in  this 
end  of  the  letter;  but  think  that  my  fears  conceal 
an  excessive  friendship,  friendship  as  La  Fontaine 


188  MEMOIRS  OF 

understood  it,  that  which  disquiets  itself  and  alarms 
itself  at  a  dream,  at  a  shadowy  idea.  You  deserve 
to  be  happy,  because  you  think  of  me  in  your 
happiness,  as  I  think  of  you  in  my  monotonous 
life,  somewhat  grave  but  full,  sober  but  productive: 
be  then  blessed! 


XXIX 

MONSIEUR  DE  L'ESTORADE   TO  THE    BARONNE    DE 

MACUMER 

December,  1825. 

My  wife  has  not  wished  that  you  should  learn 
through  the  common  formal  notification  of  an  event 
which  fills  us  with  joy.  She  has  just  been  deliv- 
ered of  a  fine  boy,  and  we  are  postponing  his  bap- 
tism until  you  shall  return  to  your  estate  at  Chante- 
pleurs.  We  hope,  Renee  and  I,  that  you  will  come 
as  far  as  La  Crampade  and  that  you  will  be  the 
godmother  of  our  firstborn.  In  this  hope,  I  have 
inscribed  him  on  the  civil  registers  under  the  names 
of  Armand-Louis  de  1'Estorade.  Our  dear  Renee 
suffered  very  much,  but  with  an  angelic  patience. 
As  you  know,  she  has  been  sustained  in  this  first 
trial  of  a  mother's  estate  by  the  certainty  of  the 
happiness  which  she  gave  to  us  all.  Without 
yielding  to  the  somewhat  ridiculous  exaggerations 
of  the  fathers  who  are  fathers  for  the  first  time,  I 
can  assure  you  that  the  little  Armand  is  very  hand- 
some; but  you  will  readily  believe  it  when  I  tell 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  189 

you  that  he  has  the  features  and  the  eyes  of  Renee. 
That  is  to  have  had  wit  already.  Now  that  the 
physician  and  the  accoucheur  have  assured  us  that 
Renee  has  not  the  least  danger  to  run,  for  she 
nurses,  the  infant  has  taken  the  breast  very  well, 
the  milk  is  abundant,  the  nature  is  so  rich  in  her! 
we  can,  my  father  and  I,  abandon  ourselves  to  our 
joy.  Madame,  this  joy  is  so  great,  so  strong,  so 
full,  it  animates  so  much  the  whole  household,  it 
has  changed  so  much  the  existence  of  my  dear  wife, 
that  I  desire  for  your  happiness  that  it  will  be  thus 
very  soon  for  you.  Renee  has  caused  to  be  pre- 
pared an  apartment  which  I  should  wish  to  render 
worthy  of  our  guest,  but  in  which  you  will  be  re- 
ceived at  least  with  a  fraternal  cordiality,  if  not 
with  luxury. 

Renee  has  communicated  to  me,  madame,  your 
intentions  concerning  us,  and  I  embrace  all  the  more 
this  occasion  to  thank  you  in  that  nothing  is  more 
seasonable.  The  birth  of  my  son  has  determined 
my  father  to  make  some  sacrifices  to  which  the  old 
men  bring  themselves  with  difficulty, — he  has  ac- 
quired two  domains.  La  Crampade  is  now  an 
estate  which  brings  in  thirty  thousand  francs.  My 
father  is  going  to  solicit  from  the  king  the  permis- 
sion to  erect  it  into  an  entailed  estate;  but  obtain 
for  him  the  title  of  which  you  spoke  in  your  last 
letter,  and  you  will  already  have  done  something 
for  your  godson. 

As  for  myself,  I  will  follow  your  counsel  solely 
that  you  may  be  reunited  to  Renee  during  the 


ICp  MEMOIRS  OF 

Sessions.  I  am  studying  with  ardor  and  endeavoring 
to  become  what  is  called  a  special  man.  But  noth- 
ing will  give  me  more  courage  than  to  know  you 
the  protectress  of  my  little  Armand.  Promise  us 
then  to  come  to  play  here,  you  so  beautiful  and  so 
gracious,  so  grand  and  so  spiritual,  the  role  of  a 
fairy  for  my  eldest  son.  You  will  have  thus,  ma- 
dame,  augmented  with  an  eternal  gratitude  the  sen- 
timents of  respectful  affection  with  which  I  have 
the  honor  to  be 

Your  very  humble  and  very  obedient  servant, 

LOUIS  DE  L'ESTORADE. 

XXX 

LOUISE  DE    MACUMER    TO   RENEE  DE  L'ESTORADE 

January,  1826. 

Macumer  has  just  awakened  me  with  your  hus- 
band's letter,  my  angel.  I  commence  by  saying 
yes.  We  will  go  toward  the  end  of  April  to  Chante- 
pleurs.  It  will  be  for  me  pleasure  upon  pleasure 
to  travel,  to  see  you  and  to  be  the  godmother  of  your 
first  child;  but  I  wish  to  have  Macumer  for  god- 
father. A  Catholic  alliance  with  another  sponsor 
would  be  odious  to  me.  Ah !  if  you  could  have  seen 
the  expression  on  his  face  at  the  moment  when  I 
said  this  to  him,  you  would  have  known  how  much 
this  angel  loves  me. 

"I  wish  all  the  more  that  we  should  go  together  to 
La  Crampade,  Felipe,"  I  said  to  him  "that  there  we, 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  IQI 

perhaps,  may  have  a  child.  I  also,  I  wish  to  be  a 
mother, — although  however  I  should  be  well  divided 
between  a  child  and  you.  In  the  first  place,  if  I 
should  see  you  preferring  some  creature  to  me,  were 
it  my  son,  I  do  not  know  what  would  happen. 
Medea  was  pretty  nearly  right:  there  was  some 
wisdom  among  the  ancients!" 

He  commenced  to  laugh.  Thus,  dear  lamb,  you 
have  the  fruit  without  having  had  the  flowers,  and 
I,  I  have  the  flowers  without  the  fruit  The  con- 
trast of  our  destinies  continues.  We  are  sufficiently 
philosophical  to  endeavor  to  find  some  day  the  sig- 
nificance and  the  moral  of  it.  Bah!  I  have  only 
been  married  ten  months,  you  must  admit,  there  has 
not  been  any  time  lost 

We  lead  the  dissipated  and  yet  busy  life,  of  happy 
people.  The  days  seem  to  us  always  too  short 
The  world,  which  has  seen  me  again  disguised  as  a 
wife,  has  found  the  Baronne  de  Macumer  much 
prettier  than  Louise  de  Chaulieu:  happy  love  has 
its  own  embellishments.  When,  in  the  fine  sun- 
light and  the  beautiful  January  frost,  when  the 
trees  of  the  Champs-£lysees  are  flowery  with 
bunches  of  white  stars,  we  pass,  Felipe  and  I,  in 
our  coupe  before  all  Paris,  reunited  there  where  we 
were  separated  last  year,  there  come  to  me  thoughts 
by  thousands,  I  am  afraid  of  being  a  little  too  inso- 
lent, as  you  foresaw  in  your  last  letter. 

If  I  am  ignorant  of  the  joys  of  maternity,  you  will 
tell  them  to  me,  and  I  shall  be  mother  through  you; 
but  there  is,  according  to  my  opinion,  nothing 


IQ2  MEMOIRS  OF 

comparable  to  the  delights  of  love.  You  will  find  me 
very  ridiculous,  but  within  ten  times  in  ten  months 
I  have  surprised  myself  by  wishing  to  die  at  thirty, 
in  all  the  splendor  of  life,  in  the  roses  of  love,  in 
the  midst  of  delights,  to  go  away  satiated,  without 
any  deduction,  having  lived  in  the  sun,  fully  in  the 
ether,  and  even  a  little  wearied  by  love,  having 
lost  nothing  of  my  crown,  not  even  a  leaf,  and  keep- 
ing all  my  illusions.  Think  then  what  it  is  to  have 
a  young  heart  in  an  old  body,  to  find  the  faces 
silent,  cold,  there  where  all  the  world,  even  the  in- 
different, smiled  on  us,  to  be  in  short  merely  a 
respectable  woman — .  But  it  is  an  anticipated  hell. 

We  have  had,  Felipe  and  I,  our  first  quarrel  on 
this  subject.  I  desired  that  he  should  have  the 
strength  to  kill  me  when  I  had  reached  thirty,  dur- 
ing my  sleep,  without  any  warning,  so  that  I  should 
pass  from  one  dream  into  another.  The  monster 
did  not  wish  to  do  it  I  threatened  to  leave  him 
alone  in  the  world,  and  he  turned  pale,  the  poor 
child!  This  great  minister  has  become,  my  dear,  a 
perfect  baby.  It  is  incredible  all  that  he  conceals 
of  youthful  ness  and  simplicity.  Now  that  I  think 
aloud  with  him  as  with  you,  that  I  have  brought 
him  to  this  regime  of  confidence,  we  astonish  each 
other. 

My  dear,  the  two  lovers,  Felipe  and  Louise,  wish 
to  send  a  present  to  the  young  mother.  We  would 
wish  to  give  you  something  which  would  please 
you.  Therefore,  tell  me  frankly  what  you  would 
like  to  have,  for  we  do  not  give  surprises  after  the 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  193 

manner  of  the  bourgeois.  We  wish,  then,  to  recall 
ourselves  constantly  to  your  memory  by  some 
friendly  souvenir,  by  a  thing  which  will  be  of  use 
to  you  every  day,  and  will  not  wear  out  in  the  usage. 
Our  gayest  repast,  the  most  intimate,  the  most  ani- 
mated, for  we  are  then  alone,  is  for  us  the  dejeuner ; 
I  have  then  thought  of  sending  you  a  special  service 
called  dejeuner,  the  ornaments  of  which  shall  be 
children.  If  you  approve  of  this,  answer  me 
promptly.  To  bring  it  to  you  it  will  be  necessary 
to  order  it,  and  the  artists  of  Paris  are  like  the 
Sluggard  Kings.  This  will  be  my  offering  to 
Lucina. 

Farewell,  dear  nurse,  I  wish  you  all  the  pleasures 
of  mothers,  and  I  am  waiting  with  impatience  for  the 
first  letter  in  which  you  will  certainly  tell  me  all, 
will  you  not?  That  accoucheur  made  me  shiver. 
That  word  in  your  husband's  letter  leaped,  not  at 
my  eyes,  but  at  my  heart  Poor  Renee,  a  child 
costs  dear,  does  it  not?  I  will  tell  it  how  much  it 
should  love  you,  this  godson.  A  thousand  tender- 
nesses, my  angel. 

XXXI 
RENEE  DE  L'ESTORADE  TO    LOUISE    DE   MACUMER 

Here  it  will  soon  be  five  months  since  my  baby 

was  born,  and  I  have  not  found,  my  dear  soul,  one 

solitary  little  moment  in  which  to  write  to  you. 

When  you  are  a  mother,  you  will  excuse  me  more 

13 


194  MEMOIRS  OF 

completely  than  you  have  done,  for  you  have  pun- 
ished me  a  little  by  making  your  letters  more  rare. 
Write  to  me,  my  dear  mignonrie!  Tell  me  all  your 
pleasures,  paint  your  happiness  for  me  in  full 
colors,  put  in  all  the  azure  hues  without  fear  of 
afflicting  me,  for  I  am  happy  and  more  happy  than 
you  will  ever  imagine. 

I  have  been  to  the  parish  church  to  hear  a  mass 
for  my  churching,  in  great  state,  as  is  the  custom 
in  our  old  families  of  Provence.  The  two  grand- 
fathers, the  father  of  Louis  and  mine,  gave  me  their 
arms.  Ah !  never  have  I  knelt  before  God  in  such 
overwhelming  gratitude.  I  have  so  many  things  to 
say  to  you,  so  many  sentiments  to  depict  to  you, 
that  I  do  not  know  where  to  commence ;  but,  amidst 
all  this  confusion,  there  rises  a  radiant  memory, 
that  of  my  prayer  in  the  church ! 

When,  in  that  place  where,  as  a  young  girl,  I 
doubted  concerning  my  life  and  my  future,  I  found 
myself  again  transformed  into  a  happy  mother,  I 
thought  I  saw  the  Virgin  of  the  altar  inclining  her 
head  and  showing  to  me  the  Divine  Infant  who 
seemed  to  smile  upon  me !  With  what  holy  effusion 
of  celestial  love  did  I  present  our  little  Armand  for 
the  benediction  of  the  Cure,  who  sprinkled  him 
while  waiting  for  the  baptism.  But  you  shall  see 
us  together,  Armand  and  I. 

My  child, — you  see  that  I  call  you  my  child!  but 
this  is  in  truth  the  sweetest  word  that  there  is  in 
the  heart,  in  the  intelligence,  and  on  the  lips  when 
one  is  a  mother: — well  then,  my  dear  child,  I 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  195 

dragged  myself,  during  the  last  two  months,  lan- 
guidly enough  through  our  gardens,  fatigued,  over- 
come by  the  weariness  of  this  burden  which  I  did 
not  know  to  be  so  dear  and  so  sweet  notwithstand- 
ing all  the  trials  of  those  two  months.  I  had  such 
apprehensions,  forebodings  so  deathly  sinister  that 
my  curiosity  was  not  stronger:  I  reasoned  with  my- 
self, I  said  to  myself  that  nothing  which  nature 
ordained  is  to  be  feared,  I  promised  myself  that  I 
would  be  a  mother.  Alas !  my  heart  was  not  touched 
at  all,  even  while  thinking  of  this  infant  who  gave 
me  sufficient  pretty  kicks  with  his  feet;  and,  my 
dear,  one  may  like  to  receive  these  kicks  when 
one  has  had  children  before;  but  for  the  first  time 
these  struggles  of  an  unknown  life  bring  more  as- 
tonishment than  pleasure.  I  speak  to  you  of  my- 
self, who  am  neither  false  nor  theatrical,  and  of 
whom  the  fruit  comes  rather  fronvGod,  for  it  is  God 
who  gives  the  children,  than  from  a  man  beloved. 
Let  us  leave  these  past  sorrows  which  will  never 
return  again  I  believe. 

When  the  crisis  came,  I  assembled  in  myself  the 
elements  for  such  a  resistance,  I  was  expecting 
such  agonies,  that  I  supported  marvelously,  they 
say,  this  horrible  torture.  There  was,  my  mignonne, 
about  an  hour  during  which  I  abandoned  myself  to 
an  annihilation  the  effects  of  which  were  those  of  a 
dream.  I  felt  myself  to  be  double, — an  envelope 
torn  with  pincers,  rent,  tortured;  and  a  placid  soul. 
In  this  curious  state,  suffering  flowered  like  a  crown 
over  my  head.  It  seemed  to  me  that  an  immense 


196  MEMOIRS  OF 

rose  issued  from  my  skull,  enlarged  and  enveloped 
me.  The  red  color  of  this  bloody-seeming  flower 
was  in  the  air.  I  saw  everything  red.  Thus  ar- 
rived at  the  point  where  the  separation  seemed 
about  to  take  place  between  the  soul  and  the  body, 
a  pain,  which  made  me  think  that  death  was  im- 
mediate, tore  me.  I  uttered  horrible  cries,  and  I 
found  new  strength  against  new  pains.  This  fright- 
ful concert  of  clamors  was  suddenly  overcome  in  me 
by  the  delicious  strains  of  the  silvery  first  cries  of 
this  little  being.  No,  nothing  can  paint  this 
moment  for  you :  it  seemed  to  me  that  the  whole 
world  cried  with  me,  that  everything  was  agony  or 
clamor,  and  that  everything  was,  as  it  were,  ex- 
tinguished by  this  feeble  cry  of  the  child.  I  was  put 
back  in  my  big  bed,  into  which  I  entered  as  into  a 
paradise,  although  I  was  of  an  excessive  feebleness. 
Three  or  four  joyful  faces,  with  tearful  eyes,  then 
showed  me  the  baby.  My  dear,  I  cried  in  affright: 

"What  a  little  monkey!"  I  said.  "Are  you  sure 
that  it  is  a  child?"  I  asked. 

I  turned  over  on  my  side,  sufficiently  over- 
whelmed not  to  feel  myself  any  more  of  a  mother 
than  that. 

"Do  not  torment  yourself,  my  dear,"  said  to  me 
my  mother,  who  had  constituted  herself  my  nurse, 
"you  have  made  the  prettiest  baby  in  the  world. 
Do  not  trouble  your  imagination,  it  is  best  for  you 
to  devote  all  your  attention  to  becoming  stupid,  to 
do  exactly  like  the  cow  who  grazes  that  she  may 
have  milk." 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  197 

I  accordingly  went  to  sleep  with  the  firm  inten- 
tion of  letting  myself  go  in  the  way  of  nature.  Ah, 
my  angel,  the  awakening  from  all  these  pains,  from 
these  confused  sensations,  from  these  first  days  in 
which  everything  was  obscure,  painful  and  unde- 
cided, was  divine.  These  shadows  were  animated 
by  a  sensation,  the  delights  of  which  surpassed 
those  of  the  first  cry  of  my  child.  My  heart,  my 
soul,  my  being,  an  unknown  I,  was  awakened  in 
its  shell,  gray  and  suffering  up  to  this  time,  as  a 
flower  bursts  forth  from  its  seed  at  the  brilliant 
summons  of  the  sun.  The  little  monster  took  my 
breast  and  sucked :  here  was  the  Fiat  lux !  I  sud- 
denly became  mother.  This  is  the  happiness,  the 
joy,  the  ineffable  joy,  although  it  is  not  without 
some  pains.  O  my  beautiful  jealous  one,  how 
much  you  will  appreciate  a  pleasure  which  is  only 
between  us,  the  infant  and  God.,  This  little  being 
knows  absolutely  nothing  but  our  breast.  There  is 
for  him  only  this  one  brilliant  point  in  the  world, 
he  loves  it  with  all  his  strength,  he  thinks  only  of 
this  fountain  of  life,  he  comes  to  it  and  goes  away  to 
sleep,  he  awakens  to  return  to  it.  His  lips  have  an 
inexpressible  love,  and,  when  they  fasten  to  it,  they 
communicate  to  it  at  once  a  pain  and  a  pleasure,  a 
pleasure  which  goes  as  far  as  pain,  or  a  pain  which 
ends  by  a  pleasure;  I  would  not  know  how  to  ex- 
plain to  you  a  sensation  which  from  the  breast  radi- 
ates through  me  to  the  very  sources  of  life,  for  it 
seems  as  though  this  were  a  centre  from  which  issue 
a  thousand  rays  which  rejoice  the  heart  and  the 


198       .  MEMOIRS  OF 

soul.  To  give  birth,  that  is  nothing;  but  to  nurse, 
that  is  to  give  birth  at  every  hour.  Oh!  Louise, 
there  are  no  lover's  caresses  which  can  equal  those 
of  these  little  pink  hands  which  wander  about  so 
softly,  and  seek  to  take  hold  of  life.  What  looks  a 
child  throws  alternately  from  our  breast  to  our 
eyes!  What  dreams  one  has  in  seeing  him  sus- 
pended by  his  lips  to  his  treasure!  He  appeals  not 
less  to  all  the  forces  of  the  mind  than  to  all  those  of 
the  body,  he  employs  both  the  blood  and  the  intel- 
ligence, he  satisfies  beyond  all  desires.  This  ador- 
able sensation  of  his  first  cry,  which  was  for  me 
that  which  the  first  ray  of  the  sun  was  for  the  earth, 
I  found  it  again  in  feeling  my  milk  fill  his  mouth; 
I  experienced  it  again  in  receiving  his  first  look,  I 
have  just  experienced  it  again  in  appreciating  in 
his  first  smile  his  first  thought.  He  laughed,  my 
dear.  This  laugh,  this  look,  this  biting,  this  cry, 
these  four  enjoyments  are  infinite:  they  go  all  the 
way  to  the  bottom  of  the  heart,  they  touch  there 
chords  which  they  alone  can  touch!  The  worlds 
should  attach  themselves  to  God  as  an  infant  at- 
taches himself  to  all  the  fibres  of  his  mother:  God, 
he  is  the  great  heart  of  a  mother.  There  is  nothing 
visible,  nor  perceptible  in  conception,  nor  even  in 
pregnancy;  but  to  nurse,  my  Louise,  it  is  a  happi- 
ness at  every  moment.  One  sees  what  becomes  of 
the  milk,  it  makes  flesh,  it  flowers  at  the  end  of 
those  delicate  fingers  which  resemble  flowers  and 
which  have  the  delicacy  of  them ;  it  enlarges  in  fine 
and  transparent  nails,  it  spins  itself  into  hair,  it 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  199 

agitates  itself  with  the  feet  Oh!  the  feet  of  a 
baby,  why,  they  are  a  complete  language.  The 
infant  commences  to  express  himself  with  them. 
To  nurse,  Louise!  it  is  a  transformation  which  one 
follows  from  hour  to  hour  and  with  a  dazed  eye.  The 
cries,  you  do  not  hear  them  with  the  ears,  but  by 
the  heart;  the  smiles  of  the  eyes  and  of  the  lips,  or 
the  agitations  of  the  feet,  you  understand  them  as  if 
God  wrote  for  you  the  characters  in  letters  of  fire  in 
space!  There  is  no  longer  anything  in  the  world 
which  interests  you, — the  father? — he  would  be 
killed  if  he  proposed  to  awaken  the  baby.  One  is, 
one's  self,  the  entire  world  for  this  infant,  as  the 
infant  is  the  world  for  us!  One  is  so  certain  that 
one's  life  is  shared,  one  is  so  amply  recompensed 
for  the  pains  which  one  gives  one's  self  and  for  the 
sufferings  which  one  endures,  for  there  are  suffer- 
ings— God  forbid  that  you  should  have  a  crack  in 
the  breast!  this  wound  which  opens  under  the  rosy 
lips,  which  is  cured  with  so  much  difficulty  and 
which  causes  torture  sufficient  to  drive  you  crazy, 
if  it  were  not  for  the  joy  of  seeing  the  mouth  of  the 
infant  smeared  with  milk,  is  one  of  the  most  fright- 
ful punishments  of  beauty.  My  Louise,  think  of  it, 
this  only  happens  to  a  fine  and  delicate  skin. 

My  young  monkey  has  become,  in  five  months, 
the  prettiest  creature  that  ever  a  mother  bathed 
with  her  happy  tears,  washed,  brushed,  combed, 
decked  out;  for  God  knows  with  what  an  indefati- 
gable ardor  these  little  flowers  are  decked  out,  clothed, 
brushed,  washed,  changed,  kissed!  Well  then,  my 


200  MEMOIRS  OF 

monkey  is  no  longer  a  monkey,  but  a  baby,  as  my 
English  nurse  says,  a  pink  and  white  baby  ;  and,  as 
he  feels  himself  loved,  he  does  not  cry  too  much; 
but,  in  truth,  I  scarcely  ever  leave  him  and  I  en- 
deavor to  penetrate  him  with  my  soul. 

Dear,  I  have  now  in  my  heart  for  Louis  a  senti- 
ment which  is  not  love,  but  one  which  should  in  a 
loving  woman,  complete  love.  I  do  not  know  if 
this  tenderness,  if  this  recognition  disengaged  from 
all  interest,  does  not  go  beyond  love.  From  all  that 
you  have  said  to  me  concerning  it,  love  has  some- 
thing in  it  frightfully  terrestrial,  whilst  there  is  an 
ineffable,  religious  and  divine  emotion  in  the  affec- 
tion which  a  happy  mother  bears  to  him  from  whom 
proceed  these  long,  these  eternal  joys.  The  joy  of 
a  mother  is  a  light  which  is  thrown  even  on  the 
future  and  lightens  it  up,  but  which  is  reflected  on 
the  past  to  give  it  the  charm  of  souvenirs. 

The  old  L'Estorade  and  his  son  have,  moreover, 
redoubled  their  goodness  to  me,  I  am  like  a  new 
person  for  them, — their  words,  their  looks,  go  to 
my  soul,  for  they  fete  me  anew  every  time  they  see 
me  and  speak  to  me.  The  old  grandfather  has  be- 
come a  child,  I  think;  he  looks  at  me  with  admira- 
tion. The  first  time  that  I  came  down  to  dejeuner 
and  that  he  saw  me  eating  and  nursing  his  grand- 
son he  wept.  That  tear  in  those  dry  eyes  in  which 
there  scarcely  ever  gleam  any  other  thoughts  than 
those  of  money  caused  to  me  an  inexpressible 
solace ;  it  seemed  to  me  that  the  good  man  compre- 
hended my  joys.  As  to  Louis,  he  would  have  told 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  2OI 

to  the  trees  and  to  the  pebbles  of  the  highroad  that 
he  had  a  son.  He  passes  entire  hours  in  looking  at 
your  sleeping  godson. — He  does  not  know,  he  says, 
when  he  will  become  accustomed  to  it  These  ex- 
cessive demonstrations  of  joy  have  revealed  to  me  the 
extent  of  their  apprehensions  and  of  their  fears. 
Louis  has  ended  by  avowing  to  me  that  he  doubted 
himself,  and  believed  himself  condemned  to  never 
have  any  children.  My  poor  Louis  has  suddenly 
changed  for  the  better,  he  studies  more  than  in  the 
past  This  infant  has  doubled  the  ambition  of  the 
father.  As  for  myself,  my  dear  soul,  I  am  from 
moment  to  moment  more  happy.  Each  hour  brings 
a  new  bond  between  a  mother  and  her  infant  That 
which  I  feel  within  me  proves  that  this  sentiment  is 
imperishable,  natural,  for  every  moment;  whilst  I 
suspect  love,  for  example,  to  have  its  intermit- 
tences.  One  does  not  love  in  the  same  manner  at 
every  moment,  there  is  not  embroidered  upon  this 
stuff  of  life  flowers  that  are  always  brilliant,  in 
short,  love  can  and  should  cease;  but  maternity  has 
no  decline  to  fear,  it  grows  with  the  needs  of  the 
infant,  it  develops  itself  with  him.  Is  it  not  at  the 
same  time  a  passion,  a  need,  a  sentiment,  a  duty,  a 
necessity,  happiness?  Yes,  mignonne,  this  is  the 
peculiar  life  of  woman.  Our  yearning  for  devotion 
is  here  satisfied,  and  we  do  not  find  the  troubles  of 
jealousy.  Thus  perhaps  is  it  for  us  the  only  point 
in  which  Nature  and  Society  are  in  accord.  In  this, 
Society  thinks  that  it  has  enriched  Nature,  it  has 
augmented  the  maternal  sentiment  by  the  spirit  of 


202  MEMOIRS  OF 

the  family,  by  the  continuity  of  the  name,  of  the 
blood,  of  the  fortune.  With  what  love  should  a 
woman  not  surround  the  dear  being  who  the  first 
has  enabled  her  to  know  such  joys,  who  for  her  has 
caused  to  be  displayed  the  strength  of  her  soul  and 
has  taught  to  her  the  great  art  of  maternity?  The 
institution  of  birthright,  which  in  antiquity  was 
intimately  connected  with  the  right  of  the  eldest  in 
the  world  and  contributed  to  the  origin  of  the  vari- 
ous societies,  it  seems  to  me  should  not  be  taken 
into  consideration.  Ah !  how  many  things  an  infant 
teaches  its  mother.  There  are  so  many  promises 
made  between  us  and  virtue  in  that  incessant  pro- 
tection due  to  a  feeble  being,  that  the  woman  is  only 
in  her  true  sphere  when  she  is  a  mother;  it  is  only 
then  that  she  displays  all  her  forces,  she  practises 
the  duties  of  her  life,  she  has  of  it  all  the  happi- 
nesses and  all  the  pleasures.  A  woman  who  is  not 
a  mother  is  a  being  incomplete  and  who  has  failed. 
Hurry  then  to  be  a  mother,  my  angel !  You  will 
multiply  your  actual  happiness  by  all  my  delights. 


23d. 

I  left  you  when  I  heard  monsieur,  your  godson, 
cry,  and  this  cry  I  heard  from  the  end  of  the  garden. 
I  do  not  wish  to  send  off  this  letter  without  saying 
to  you  a  farewell  word;  1  have  just  re-read  it,  and 
am  frightened  at  the  commonness  of  the  sentiment 
which  it  contains.  That  which  1  feel,  alas !  it  seems 
to  me  that  all  mothers  have  experienced  it  like 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  203 

myself,  should  express  it  in  the  same  manner,  and 
that  you  will  laugh  at  me,  as  people  laugh  at  the 
simplicity  of  all  those  fathers  who  relate  to  you  the 
cleverness  and  the  beauty  of  their  children,  finding 
in  them  always  something  particular.  Finally, 
dear  mignonne,  the  great  word  of  this  letter  is  this, 
I  repeat  it  to  you, — I  am  as  happy  now  as  I  was  un- 
happy formerly.  This  country  house,  which  more- 
over is  going  to  become  an  estate,  a  majorat,  is  for 
me  the  promised  land.  I  have  ended  by  crossing 
my  desert.  A  thousand  tendernesses,  dear  mig- 
nonne. Write  to  me,  I  can  to-day  read  without 
weeping  the  description  of  your  happiness  and  of 
your  love.  Adieu. 

XXXII 

MADAME  DE  MACUMER  TO  MADAME  DE  L'ESTORADE 

March,  1826. 

What,  my  dear,  more  than  three  months  since  I 
wrote  to  you  and  since  I  have  received  any  letters 
from  you! — I  am  the  more  culpable  of  the  two,  I 
have  not  replied  to  you;  but  you  are  not  sensitive, 
that  I  know.  Your  silence  has  been  taken  by  Ma- 
cumer  and  myself  as  an  agreement  to  the  dejeuner 
service  decorated  with  child  figures,  and  these 
charming  objects  will  be  sent  off  this  morning  to 
Marseilles;  the  artists  have  taken  six  months  to  ex- 
ecute them.  Thus  I  suddenly  came  to  myself  with 
a  start  when  Felipe  proposed  to  me  to  go  and  see 


204  MEMOIRS  OF 

the  service  before  the  goldsmith  packed  it  up.  It 
suddenly  occurred  to  me  that  we  had  written  noth- 
ing to  each  other  since  the  letter  in  which  1  felt 
myself  a  mother  with  you. 

My  angel,  the  terrible  Paris,  that  is  my  excuse 
for  myself;  I  am  waiting  for  yours.  Oh  the  world, 
what  a  gulf!  Have  I  not  already  said  to  you  that 
one  can  only  be  a  Parisienne  in  Paris?  The  world 
here  destroys  all  the  feelings,  it  occupies  all  your 
hours,  it  will  devour  your  heart  if  you  do  not  take 
care.  What  an  astonishing  masterpiece  is  that 
creation  of  Celimene  in  Le  Misanthrope  by  Moliere! 
It  is  the  woman  of  the  world  of  the  time  of  Louis 
XIV.  as  of  that  of  our  time,  in  short,  a  woman  of  the 
world  of  every  epoch.  Where  should  I  be  in  it  all 
were  it  not  for  my  >£gis,  without  my  love  for  Felipe  ? 
Thus  I  said  to  him  this  morning  while  making  these 
reflections,  that  he  is  my  savior.  If  my  evenings 
are  filled  by  the  fetes,  by  the  balls,  by  the  concerts, 
and  by  the  theatres,  I  find  again  on  my  return  the 
joys  of  love  and  its  follies  which  expand  my  heart, 
which  efface  in  it  the  injuries  caused  by  the  world. 
I  only  dine  at  home  on  the  days  on  which  we  have 
people  who  are  called  friends,  and  I  do  not  remain 
at  home  excepting  for  my  days.  I  have  my  day, 
Wednesday,  on  which  I  receive.  I  have  engaged 
in  a  struggle  with  Mesdames  d'Espard  and  De  Mau- 
frigneuse,  with  the  old  Duchesse  de  Lenoncourt 
My  house  has  the  reputation  of  being  an  entertain- 
ing one.  I  have  let  myself  be  carried  away  by  the 
current  of  the  world  in  seeing  my  Felipe  happy  in 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  205 

my  success.  I  give  to  him  the  mornings;  for,  from 
four  o'clock  up  to  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  I  be- 
long to  Paris.  Macumer  is  an  admirable  master  of 
the  house, — he  is  so  acute  and  so  grave,  so  truly 
grand  and  of  such  perfect  grace,  that  he  would  make 
himself  loved  by  a  woman  who  had  married  him 
conventionally.  My  father  and  my  mother  have 
gone  to  Madrid, — Louis  XVIII.  being  dead,  the 
duchess  readily  secured  from  our  good  Charles  X. 
the  appointment  of  her  charming  poet,  whom  she 
carried  off  with  her  in  his  quality  of  attache.  My 
brother,  the  Due  de  Rhetore,  deigns  to  regard  me  as 
a  superior  being.  As  to  the  Comte  de  Chaulieu, 
this  fancy  soldier  should  owe  me  an  eternal  grati- 
tude,— my  fortune  was  employed,  before  my  father's 
departure,  in  constituting  for  him  in  lands  amajorat 
of  forty  thousand  francs  of  income,  and  his  marriage 
with  Mademoiselle  de  Mortsauf,  a  rich  heiress  of 
Touraine,  is  all  arranged.  The  king,  in  order  that 
the  names  and  the  titles  of  the  houses  of  Lenoncourt 
and  of  Givry  should  not  be  extinguished,  has 
authorized  my  brother  by  an  ordinance  to  succeed 
to  the  name,  titles  and  arms  of  the  Lenoncourt- 
Givrys.  How,  in  fact,  could  these  fine  names  and 
the  sublime  device:  Faciem  semper  monstramus,  be 
allowed  to  perish!  Mademoiselle  de  Mortsauf, 
granddaughter  and  only  heiress  of  the  Due  de 
Lenoncourt-Givry,  reunites  in  her  own  right  it  is 
said  more  than  a  hundred  thousand  francs  income. 
My  father  only  demanded  that  the  arms  of  the 
Chaulieus  should  be  placed  in  the  centre  of  those  of 


206  MEMOIRS   OF 

the  Lenoncourts.  Thus  my  brother  will  be  Due  de 
Lenoncourt  The  young  De  Mortsauf,  to  whom  all 
this  fortune  should  go,  is  in  the  last  stage  of  con- 
sumption; his  death  is  expected  momentarily. 
Next  winter,  after  the  mourning,  the  marriage  will 
take  place.  I  shall  have,  they  say,  for  sister-in-law 
a  charming  person  in  Madeleine  de  Mortsauf.  Thus 
as  you  see,  my  father  was  right  in  his  reasoning. 
This  result  has  procured  me  the  admiration  of  a 
great  many  persons,  and  my  marriage  is  accounted 
for.  Through  affection  for  my  grandmother,  the 
Prince  de  Talleyrand  praises  Macumer,  so  that  our 
success  is  complete.  After  having  commenced  by 
blaming  me,  society  now  highly  approves  of  me.  I 
reign  finally,  then,  in  that  Paris  in  which  I  was  of 
so  small  account  nearly  two  years  ago.  Macumer 
sees  his  happiness  envied  by  all  the  world,  for  I  am 
the  cleverest  woman  in  Paris.  You  know  that  there 
are  twenty  "cleverest  women  in  Paris"  in  Paris. 
The  men  coo  to  me  phrases  of  love  or  content  them- 
selves with  expressing  them  in  envious  regards. 
Truly,  there  is  in  this  concert  of  desires  and  of  ad- 
miration a  so  constant  satisfaction  of  the  vanity, 
that  now  I  comprehend  the  excessive  outlay  made 
by  women  to  enjoy  these  frail  and  passing  advan- 
tages. This  triumph  intoxicates  the  pride,  the 
vanity,  the  self-love,  in  short  all  the  sentiments  of 
the  /.  This  perpetual  deification  intoxicates  so 
violently  that  I  am  no  longer  astonished  to  see  the 
women  becoming  egotistical,  forgetful  and  frivolous 
in  the  midst  of  this  festival.  The  world  flies  to  the 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  207 

head.  One  squanders  the  flowers  of  one's  wit  and 
of  one's  soul,  one's  most  precious  time,  one's  most 
generous  efforts,  upon  people  who  pay  you  in  jeal- 
ousy and  in  smiles,  who  sell  to  you  the  counterfeit 
money  of  their  phrases,  of  their  compliments  and  of 
their  adulation  against  the  golden  ingots  of  your 
courage,  of  your  sacrifices,  of  your  inventions  for 
being  beautiful,  well  dressed,  clever,  affable  and 
agreeable  to  all.  You  know  how  costly  is  this  com- 
merce, you  know  that  you  are  robbed,  but  you  give 
yourself  up  to  it  all  the  same  Ah,  my  beautiful 
lamb,  how  much  one  has  need  of  the  heart  of  a 
friend,  how  precious  are  the  love  and  the  devotion 
of  Felipe!  how  much  I  love  you!  With  what  hap- 
piness are  the  preparations  for  a  journey  made  to  go 
and  seek  at  Chantepleurs  rest  from  the  comedies  of 
the  Rue  du  Bac  and  of  all  the  salons  of  Paris!  In 
short,  I  who  have  just  re-read  your  last  letter,  I  shall 
have  painted  for  you  this  infernal  paradise  of  Paris 
in  telling  you  that  it  is  impossible  for  a  woman  of 
society  to  be  a  mother. 

Good-bye  for  a  short  time,  dearest;  we  will  only 
stop  for  a  week  at  the  most  at  Chantepleurs  and  we 
will  be  with  you  about  the  tenth  of  May.  We  are 
then  going  to  see  each  other  again  after  more  than 
two  years!  And  what  changes!  We  are  both 
wives, — 1  the  most  happy  of  mistresses,  you,  the 
most  happy  of  mothers.  If  I  have  not  written  to 
you,  my  dear  love,  1  have  not  forgotten  you.  And 
my  godson,  that  monkey,  is  he  still  pretty?  does  he 
do  me  honor  ?  He  will  be  more  than  nine  months 


208  MEMOIRS  OF 

old.  I  wish  to  assist  at  his  first  steps  in  the  world ; 
but  Macumer  tells  me  that  precocious  children 
scarcely  walk  at  ten  months.  We  will  then  have 
our  little  gossip,  in  the  manner  of  the  Blesois.  I 
will  see  if,  as  is  said,  child-bearing  spoils  the 
figure. 

P.  S.     If  you  answer,  sublime  mother,  address 
your  letter  to  Chantepleurs,  I  am  setting  out 


XXXIII 
MADAME  DE  L'ESTORADE  TO  MADAME  DE  MACUMER 

Eh !  my  child,  if  ever  you  become  a  mother,  you 
will  know  if  one  can  write  letters  during  the  first 
two  months  of  nursing.  Mary,  my  English  nurse, 
and  I,  we  are  fagged  out  It  is  true  that  I  did  not 
tell  you  that  I  insist  upon  doing  everything  myself. 
Before  the  event,  I  sewed  and  embroidered  with  my 
own  fingers  all  the  baby  linen,  trimmed  the  caps 
myself.  I  am  a  slave,  my  mignonne,  a  slave  day 
and  night  And  in  the  first  place,  Armand-Louis 
sucks  whenever  he  wants  to,  and  he  wants  to  all  the 
time;  then  it  is  necessary  to  change  him  so  often, 
to  clean  him,  to  clothe  him ;  the  mother  loves  so 
much  to  look  at  him  when  he  is  asleep,  to  sing 
songs  to  him,  to  promenade  him  when  it  is  pleasant 
holding  him  in  her  arms,  that  she  has  no  time  in 
which  to  take  care  of  herself.  In  short,  you  have 
the  world,  I  have  my  child,  our  child !  What  a  rich 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  209 

and  full  life!  Oh  my  dear,  I  am  waiting  for  you, 
you  will  see !  But  I  fear  that  teething  time  is  about 
to  commence,  and  that  you  will  find  him  very  noisy, 
very  weeping.  He  has  not  cried  much  as  yet,  for  I 
am  always  on  hand.  Babies  only  cry  because  they 
have  wants  which  one  does  not  know  how  to  find 
out,  and  I  know  the  indications  of  all  his.  Oh  my 
angel,  how  my  heart  has  enlarged  while  you  have 
been  shriveling  yours  in  putting  it  at  the  service  of 
the  world!  I  am  waiting  for  you  with  the  impa- 
tience of  a  solitary.  I  wish  to  know  your  opinion 
of  L'Estorade,  as  you  doubtless  wish  to  have  mine 
on  Macumer.  Write  me  your  last  sleeping  place. 
My  men  wish  to  go  to  meet  our  illustrious  guests. 
Come,  queen  of  Paris,  come  to  our  poor  country 
house,  where  you  will  be  loved! 


XXXIV 

MADAME  DE  MACUMER  TO  THE  VICOMTESSE 
DE  L'ESTORADE 

April,  1826. 

The  address  of  my  letter  will  announce  to  you, 
my  dear,  the  success  of  my  efforts.     Your  father- 
in-law  is  now  Comte  de  1'Estorade.     I  did  not  wish 
to  leave  Paris  without  having  obtained  for  you  that 
which  you  desired,  and  1  am  writing  to  you  in  the 
presence  of  the  Lord  Keeper  of  the  Great  Seal  who 
has  come  to  tell  me  that  the  ordinance  is  signed. 
Good-bye,  hoping  to  see  you  very  soon. 
14 


210  MEMOIRS  OF 

XXXV 

THE  SAME  TO  THE  SAME 

Marseilles,  July. 

My  sudden  departure  must  have  astonished  you, 
I  am  ashamed  of  it;  but,  as  before  all  I  am  truthful 
and  as  I  love  you  always  as  much  as  ever,  I  am  go- 
ing to  tell  you  frankly  the  whole  in  four  words, — I 
am  horribly  jealous.  Felipe  looked  at  you  too  much. 
You  had  together  at  the  foot  of  your  rock  little  con- 
versations which  put  me  to  the  torture,  rendered  me 
evil  and  changed  all  my  character.  Your  beauty, 
truly  Spanish,  must  have  recalled  to  him  his  country 
and  that  Marie  Heredia  of  whom  I  am  jealous,  for  I 
am  jealous  of  the  past.  Your  magnificent  black 
hair,  your  beautiful  brown  eyes,  that  forehead  on 
which  the  joys  of  maternity  brought  into  relief  your 
eloquent  past  sorrows,  which  are  like  the  shadows 
of  a  radiant  light;  that  freshness  of  the  meridional 
skin,  whiter  than  my  whiteness  of  the  blonde;  that 
strength  and  fulness  of  form,  that  breast  which 
shone  among  the  laces  like  a  delicious  fruit  to  which 
was  suspended  my  beautiful  godson;  all  that 
wounded  my  eyes  and  my  heart.  It  was  all  very 
well  for  me  at  one  time  to  put  blue  corn  flowers  in 
my  bunchy  hair,  at  another  time  to  relieve  the  in- 
sipidity of  my  blonde  tresses  by  cherry  ribbons, — it 
all  paled  before  a  Renee  whom  I  did  not  expect  to 
find  in  this  oasis  of  La  Crampade. 

Felipe  envied  also  too  much  that  child,  whom  I 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  211 

took  to  hating.  Yes,  this  insolent  life  which  filled 
all  your  household,  which  animated  it,  which  cried 
there,  which  laughed  there,  I  wished  it  for  myself. 
I  read  regrets  in  the  eyes  of  Macumer,  I  wept  be- 
cause of  it  during  two  nights,  unknown  to  him.  I 
was  in  torment  in  your  house.  You  are  too  beauti- 
ful a  woman  and  too  happy  a  mother  for  me  to  be 
able  to  remain  near  you.  Ah,  hypocrite,  you  com- 
plain! In  the  first  place,  your  L'Estorade  is  very 
fine,  he  talks  agreeably;  his  black  hairs  mingled 
with  white  are  handsome ;  he  has  fine  eyes,  and  his 
meridional  ways  have  that  I  do  not  know  what  which 
pleases.  From  what  I  have  seen,  he  will  sooner  or 
later  be  made  deputy  from  the  Bouches-du-Rh6ne ; 
he  will  make  his  way  in  the  Chamber,  for  I  am 
always  at  your  service  in  all  that  concerns  your 
ambition.  The  sufferings  of  exile  have  given  him 
that  calm  and  regulated  air  which  seems  to  me  to 
be  the  half  of  politics.  According  to  me,  my  dear, 
the  whole  political  science  consists  in  a  grave  ap- 
pearance. Thus  I  have  said  to  Macumer  that  he 
should  be  a  very  great  statesman. 

In  short,  after  having  acquired  the  certainty  of 
your  happiness,  I  am  going  in  full  flight,  content, 
to  my  dear  Chantepleurs,  where  Felipe  will  pre- 
pare to  be  a  father ;  I  do  not  wish  to  receive  you 
there  unless  I  have  at  my  breast  a  beautiful  infant 
like  yours.  I  deserve  all  the  names  that  you  would 
wish  to  give  me, — I  am  ridiculous,  disgraceful,  with- 
out sense.  Alas!  one  is  all  that  when  one  is  jeal- 
ous. 1  do  not  wish  to  quarrel  with  you,  but  I  was 


212  MEMOIRS   OF 

suffering,  and  you  will  forgive  me  for  having 
escaped  from  such  suffering.  In  two  days  more  I 
should  have  committed  some  stupidity.  Yes,  I 
should  have  been  in  very  bad  taste.  Notwithstand- 
ing these  rages  which  gnaw  at  my  heart,  I  am  happy 
at  having  come,  happy  to  have  seen  you,  a  mother, 
so  beautiful  and  so  fruitful,  still  my  friend  in  the 
midst  of  your  maternal  joys,  as  I  remain  always 
yours  in  the  midst  of  my  love.  Behold,  at  Mar- 
seilles, at  a  few  steps  from  you,  I  am  already  proud 
of  you,  proud  of  that  great  mother  of  a  family 
which  you  will  be.  With  what  judgment  did  you 
divine  your  vocation !  For  you  seem  to  me  born  to 
be  rather  mother  than  lover,  as  I — I  am  born  rather 
for  love  than  for  maternity.  Certain  women  can  be 
neither  mothers  nor  lovers,  they  are  either  too  ugly 
or  too  stupid.  A  good  mother  and  a  mistress-wife 
should  have  under  all  circumstances  wit,  judgment, 
and  know,  whatever  might  arise,  how  to  display  the 
most  exquisite  qualities  of  a  woman.  Oh!  I  ob- 
served you  closely;  is  that  not  the  same  as  saying, 
my  kitten,  that  I  admired  you?  Yes,  your  children 
will  be  happy  and  well  brought  up,  they  will  be 
bathed  in  the  effusions  of  your  tendernesses,  caressed 
by  the  light  of  your  soul. 

Tell  the  truth  concerning  my  departure  to  your 
Louis,  but  color  it  with  a  reasonable  pretext  for  the 
eyes  of  your  father-in-law,  who  seems  to  be  your 
intendant,  and  above  all  for  the  eyes  of  your  family, 
a  true  family  Harlowe,  plus  the  Provencal  spirit. 
Felipe  does  not  know  yet  why  I  left,  he  will  never 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  213 

know  it  If  he  asks,  I  will  find  for  him  some  pre- 
text or  other.  I  will  say  to  him  probably  that  you 
were  jealous  of  me.  Bear  me  out  in  this  little 
friendly  falsehood.  Adieu;  I  am  writing  to  you 
hurriedly  so  that  you  may  have  this  letter  at  the 
hour  of  your  dejeuner,  and  the  postilion  who  has 
orders  that  this  shall  be  done  is  here  drinking  while 
he  waits.  Kiss  well  my  dear  little  godson  for  me. 
Come  to  Chantepleurs  in  the  month  of  October,  I 
shall  be  there  alone  during  all  the  time  that  Macu- 
mer  is  going  to  pass  in  Sardinia,  where  he  wishes 
to  make  great  alterations  in  his  domains.  At  least 
such  is  the  project  of  the  moment,  and  it  is  his  own 
foolishness  to  think  that  he  has  a  project,  he  thinks 
himself  independent, — thus  he  is  always  uneasy  in 
communicating  his  plans  to  me.  Adieu! 


XXXVI 

THE    VICOMTESSE    DE     L'ESTORADE    TO    THE    BA- 
RONNE  DE  MACUMER 

My  dear,  we  all  of  us  were  inexpressibly  aston- 
ished when,  at  dejeuner,  they  told  us  that  you  had 
departed,  and  above  all  when  the  postilion  whom 
you  had  carried  off  to  Marseilles  handed  me  your 
crazy  letter.  But,  wicked  one,  there  was  no  discus- 
sion of  anything  but  of  your  happiness  in  those 
conversations  at  the  foot  of  the  rock,  on  "Louise's 
bench,"  and  you  were  very  wrong  to  take  offense 
at  them.  Ingrata !  I  condemn  you  to  return  here 


214  MEMOIRS  OF 

at  my  first  summons.  In  that  odious  letter  scrawled 
on  the  hotel  paper,  you  have  not  told  me  where  you 
would  stop;  lam  therefore  obliged  to  address  my 
reply  to  you  at  Chantepleurs. 

Listen  to  me,  dear  sister  of  election,  and  know 
before  all  that  I  wish  you  happiness.  Your  husband, 
my  Louise,  has  a  fathomless  depth  of  soul  and  of 
thought  which  is  imposing  as  much  as  his  natural 
gravity  and  his  noble  countenance  are  imposing; 
then  there  is  in  his  ugliness  which  is  so  spiritual, 
in  that  velvet  glance,  a  truly  majestic  power;  it 
therefore  required  some  time  for  me  to  establish 
that  familiarity  without  which  it  is  difficult  to 
closely  observe.  Finally,  this  man  has  been  prime 
minister,  and  he  adores  you  as  he  adores  God, — 
therefore,  he  should  be  able  to  dissimulate  thor- 
oughly; and  in  order  to  fish  out  the  secrets  from  the 
depths  of  this  diplomat,  under  the  rocks  of  his  heart, 
I  had  to  display  as  much  skilful  ness  as  shrewdness; 
but  I  ended,  without  our  man  thinking  of  it,  by  dis- 
covering a  great  many  things  of  which  my  mign- 
onne  has  no  suspicions.  Of  us  two,  I  represent 
somewhat  Reason  as  you  are  Imagination;  I  am  the 
great  Duty,  as  you  are  the  foolish  Love.  This  con- 
trast of  spirit  which  existed  only  for  us  two,  fate 
has  been  pleased  to  continue  in  our  destinies.  I  am 
a  humble  rural  viscountess,  excessively  ambitious, 
who  should  conduct  her  family  in  the  way  of  pros- 
perity; whilst  all  the  world  knows  Macumer,  ex- 
duke  of  Soria,  and  that,  duchess  by  right,  you  reign 
over  that  Paris  where  it  is  difficult  for  anyone 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  215 

whatever,  even  for  the  kings,  to  reign.  You  have  a 
fine  fortune  which  Macumer  will  double,  if  he  real- 
izes his  projects  of  improvements  for  his  immense 
domain  of  Sardinia,  the  resources  of  which  are  well 
known  in  Marseilles.  Admit  that,  if  either  of  us 
should  have  been  jealous,  it  was  I.  But  let  us  ren- 
der thanks  to  God  that  we  have  each  of  us  a  heart 
sufficiently  elevated  to  place  our  friendship  above 
vulgar  pettinesses.  I  know  you, — you  are  ashamed 
of  having  left  me.  Notwithstanding  your  flight,  I 
shall  not  spare  you  a  single  one  of  the  words  which 
I  was  going  to  say  to  you  to-day  under  the  rock. 
Read  this  then  with  attention,  I  entreat  you,  for  it 
is  much  more  a  question  of  you  than  of  Macumer, 
although  he  counts  for  a  good  deal  in  my  morality. 
In  the  first  place,  my  mignonne,  you  do  not  love 
him.  In  less  than  two  years  you  will  be  wearied 
of  this  adoration.  You  will  never  see  in  Felipe  a 
husband,  but  rather  a  lover  with  whom  you  will 
play  carelessly,  as  all  women  do  with  a  lover.  No, 
he  does  not  overawe  you,  you  have  not  for  him  that 
profound  respect,  that  tenderness  full  of  fear  which 
a  true  loving  woman  has  for  him  in  whom  she  sees 
a  god.  Oh!  I  have  well  studied  love,  my  angel, 
and  I  have  more  than  once  sounded  the  depths  of 
my  heart  After  having  well  examined  you,  I  can 
say  to  you:  "you  do  not  love."  Yes,  dear  queen  of 
Paris,  just  like  the  queens,  you  will  desire  to  be 
treated  like  a  grisette,  you  will  wish  to  be  domi- 
nated, carried  away  by  a  strong  man  who,  instead 
of  adoring  you,  will  know  how  to  crush  your  arm 


216  MEMOIRS  OF 

in  seizing  you  in  the  midst  of  a  scene  of  jealousy. 
Macumer  loves  you  too  much  to  be  able  ever  either 
to  reprimand  you  or  to  resist  you.  One  of  your 
looks  only,  one  only  of  your  cajoling  words,  would 
dissolve  the  strongest  of  his  wishes.  Sooner  or 
later,  you  will  despise  him  for  this,  that  he  loves 
you  too  much.  Alas!  he  spoils  you,  as  I  spoiled 
you  when  we  were  at  the  convent,  for  you  are  one 
of  the  most  seductive  women  and  one  of  the  most 
enchanting  spirits  that  can  be  imagined.  You  are 
true  above  all,  and  often  the  world  exacts,  for  our 
own  happiness,  falsehoods  to  which  you  will  never 
descend.  Thus,  the  world  demands  that  a  wife 
shall  never  let  the  empire  which  she  exercises  over 
her  husband  appear.  Socially  speaking,  a  husband 
should  no  more  appear  to  be  the  lover  of  his  wife 
when  he  loves  her  as  a  lover,  than  a  wife  should 
play  the  role  of  a  mistress.  Now,  you  both  of  you 
fail  in  this  law.  My  child,  in  the  first  place,  that 
which  the  world  pardons  the  least,  judging  from 
what  you  have  told  me  about  it,  is  happiness,  it 
should  be  hidden  from  it;  but  this  is  nothing. 
There  exists  between  lovers  an  equality  which  can 
never,  in  my  opinion,  appear  between  a  wife  and 
her  husband,  under  penalty  of  a  social  overturning 
and  without  irreparable  misfortunes.  A  man  null 
is  something  frightful ;  but  there  is  something  worse, 
it  is  a  man  annulled.  Within  a  certain  length  of 
time,  you  will  have  reduced  Macumer  to  the  state 
of  being  only  the  shadow  of  a  man :  he  will  no 
longer  have  his  will,  he  will  no  longer  be  himself, 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  217 

but  a  thing  fashioned  to  your  usage;  you  will  have 
him  so  well  assimilated  that  instead  of  being  two, 
there  will  no  longer  be  but  one  person  in  your 
household,  and  this  being  will  be  necessarily  in- 
complete; you  will  suffer  for  it,  and  the  evil  will 
be  without  remedy  when  you  deign  to  open  your 
eyes.  We  may  do  what  we  will,  our  sex  will  never 
be  endowed  with  the  qualities  which  distinguish 
the  man;  and  these  qualities  are  more  than  neces- 
sary, they  are  indispensable  to  the  Family.  At 
this  moment,  notwithstanding  his  blindness,  Macu- 
mer  has  glimpses  of  this  future,  he  feels  himself 
diminished  by  his  love.  His  journey  to  Sardinia 
proves  to  me  that  he  is  going  to  endeavor  to  recover 
himself  by  this  momentary  separation.  You  do  not 
hesitate  to  exercise  the  power  with  which  love  en- 
dows you.  Your  authority  is  shown  in  a  gesture, 
in  the  look,  in  the  accent  Oh,  dear,  you  are,  as 
your  mother  said  to  you,  an  extravagant  courtesan. 
Certainly  it  is  evident  to  you,  I  think,  that  I  am 
much  superior  to  Louis ;  but  have  you  ever  seen  me 
contradicting  him  ?  am  I  not  in  public  a  wife  who 
respects  him  as  the  head  of  the  family  ?  Hypocrisy ! 
do  you  say.  In  the  first  place,  the  counsel  which 
I  think  it  advisable  to  give  him,  my  advice,  my 
ideas,  I  never  submit  them  to  him  but  in  the  shadow 
and  the  silence  of  the  bedchamber ;  but  I  can  swear 
to  you,  my  angel,  that  even  then  I  do  not  affect  any 
superiority  to  him.  If  I  did  not  keep  up  every  ap- 
pearance of  being  his  dutiful  wife,  he  would  not 
believe  in  himself.  My  dear,  the  perfection  of 


218  MEMOIRS  OF 

benevolence  consists  in  effacing  itself  so  completely 
that  the  favored  one  does  not  think  himself  inferior 
to  him  who  favors  him ;  and  this  concealed  devotion 
admits  of  infinite  contentment.  Thus,  my  glory  has 
been  to  deceive  you  yourself,  and  you  have  compli- 
mented me  on  Louis.  Prosperity,  happiness,  hope, 
have  moreover  permitted  him  to  regain  within  the 
last  two  years  all  that  misfortune,  misery,  abandon- 
ment and  doubt  had  made  him  lose.  At  this 
moment,  then,  according  to  my  observations,  I  find 
that  you  love  Felipe  for  yourself  and  not  for  him- 
self. There  is  truth  in  that  which  your  father  said 
to  you, — your  egotism  of  the  great  lady  is  only  dis- 
guised under  the  spring  flowers  of  your  love.  Ah, 
my  child,  it  is  necessary  to  love  you  well  to  tell  you 
such  cruel  truths.  Let  me  repeat  to  you,  under  the 
condition  of  never  breathing  the  least  word  of  this 
to  the  baron,  the  end  of  one  of  our  conversations. 
We  had  been  singing  your  praises  in  all  tones,  for 
he  saw  clearly  that  I  loved  you  like  a  beloved  sis- 
ter; and  after  having  led  him,  without  his  being 
aware  of  it,  to  confidences : 

"Louise,"  I  said  to  him,  "has  not  yet  had  any 
struggles  with  life,  she  is  treated  like  a  spoiled  child 
by  fate,  and  perhaps  she  will  be  unhappy  if  you 
should  not  be  a  father  for  her  as  you  are  a  lover." 

"Eh!  can  I?"  he  said. 

He  stopped  short,  like  a  man  who  sees  the  preci- 
pice over  which  he  will  fall.  This  exclamation 
sufficed  for  me.  If  you  had  not  departed,  he  would 
have  said  more  to  me  a  few  days  later. 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  219 

My  angel,  when  this  man  shall  be  without 
strength,  when  he  shall  have  found  satiety  in  pleas- 
ures; when  he  shall  feel,  I  will  not  say  debased, but 
without  his  dignity,  before  you, — the  reproaches 
which  his  conscience  will  make  him,  will  give  him 
a  sort  of  remorse,  wounding  for  you  also  through  the 
very  fact  that  you  shall  feel  yourself  culpable.  In 
short,  you  will  finish  by  holding  in  contempt  the 
one  whom  you  have  not  been  in  the  habit  of  re- 
specting. Think  of  it:  contempt  with  a  woman  is 
the  first  manifestation  of  her  hate.  As  you  are 
noble  of  heart,  you  will  always  remember  the  sac- 
rifices which  Felipe  will  have  made  for  you;  but  he 
will  have  no  more  to  make  to  you  after  having  in 
some  sort  served  up  himself  in  this  first  festival, 
and  woe  to  the  man  as  to  the  woman  who  leaves 
nothing  to  wish  for !  All  is  said.  To  our  shame  or 
to  our  glory,  I  cannot  decide  this  delicate  point,  we 
are  exacting  only  for  the  man  who  loves  us! 

O  Louise,  change,  it  is  yet  time.  You  can,  in 
your  conduct  with  Macumer  as  I  do  with  L'Estorade, 
arouse  the  lion  hidden  in  this  truly  superior  man. 
It  might  almost  be  said  that  you  wish  to  avenge 
yourself  of  his  superiority.  Will  you  not  then  be 
proud  to  exercise  your  power  otherwise  than  for 
your  own  profit,  to  make  a  man  of  genius  out  of  a 
great  man,  as  I  make  a  superior  man  out  of  an  ordi- 
nary man  ? 

If  you  had  remained  in  the  country,  I  would  still 
have  written  you  this  letter;  I  would  have  feared 
your  petulance  and  your  wit  in  a  conversation, 


220  MEMOIRS  OF 

while  I  know  that  you  will  reflect  on  your  future 
when  you  read  this.  Dear  soul,  you  have  every- 
thing necessary  to  make  you  happy,  do  not  spoil 
your  happiness,  and  return  in  the  month  of  Novem- 
ber to  Paris.  The  cares  and  the  enticements  of  the 
world  of  which  I  complained  are  diversions  neces- 
sary to  your  existence,  which  is  perhaps  a  little  too 
intimate.  A  married  woman  should  have  her  little 
coquetry.  The  mother  of  a  family  who  does  not 
make  her  presence  desired  by  making  herself  rare 
in  the  bosom  of  the  family  runs  the  risk  of  bringing 
satiety  into  it  If  I  have  several  children,  which  I 
wish  for  my  happiness,  I  swear  to  you  that  as  soon 
as  they  arrive  at  a  certain  age  I  shall  reserve  for 
myself  hours  during  which  I  shall  be  alone;  for  it 
is  necessary  to  make  yourself  asked  for  by  all  the 
world,  even  by  your  children.  Adieu,  dear  jealous 
one !  Do  you  know  that  a  common  woman  would 
be  flattered  to  have  occasioned  you  this  jealousy  ? 
Alas!  1  can  only  distress  myself  over  it,  for  there 
is  in  me  only  a  mother  and  a  sincere  friend.  A 
thousand  tendernesses.  Do  whatever  you  like  to 
excuse  your  departure:  if  you  are  not  sure  of  Felipe, 
I  am  sure  of  Louis. 

XXXVII 

THE  BARONNE    DE  MACUMER  TO  THE  VICOMTESSE 
DE  L'ESTORADE 

Genoa. 

My  beautiful  dear,  I  have  had  a  fancy  to  see  a 
little  of  Italy,  and  I  am  delighted  to  have  carried  off 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  221 

Macumer,  whose  projects  concerning  his  Sardinia 
estates  are  postponed. 

This  country  enchants  me  and  fills  me  with  de- 
light Here  the  churches  and  above  all  the  chapels, 
have  an  amorous  and  coquettish  air  which  should 
make  a  Protestant  desire  to  turn  Catholic.  Macu- 
mer has  been  fe"ted,  and  much  rejoicing  has  been 
expressed  over  the  acquisition  of  such  a  subject  If 
I  should  desire  it,  Felipe  would  be  the  Ambassador 
of  Sardinia  at  Paris;  for  the  Court  is  quite  devoted 
to  me.  If  you  write  to  me,  address  your  letters  to 
Florence.  I  have  not  too  much  time  to  write  to  you 
in  detail,  I  will  relate  my  journey  to  you  on  your 
first  visit  to  Paris.  We  will  remain  here  only  a 
week.  Then  we  will  go  to  Florence  by  Leghorn, 
we  will  stop  a  month  in  Tuscany  and  a  month  in 
Naples,  so  as  to  be  in  Rome  in  November.  We 
will  come  back  by  Venice,  where  we  will  stay  the 
first  two  weeks  in  December ;  then  we  will  arrive 
by  way  of  Milan  and  Turin  in  Paris  for  the  month 
of  January.  We  are  traveling  as  lovers, — the 
novelty  of  the  localities  renews  our  wedding  days. 
Macumer  does  not  know  Italy,  and  we  commenced 
by  that  magnificent  road  of  the  Corniche,  which 
seems  to  have  been  built  by  the  fairies.  Adieu, 
dearest  Do  not  complain  of  me  if  I  do  not  write  to 
you;  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  find  a  moment  to 
myself  while  travel  ing;  I  have  only  the  time  to  see, 
to  feel,  and  to  appreciate  my  impressions.  But,  to 
tell  you  about  them,  I  shall  wait  until  they  have 
taken  the  tints  of  memories. 


222  MEMOIRS  OF 

XXXVIII 

THE    VICOMTESSE    DE    L'ESTORADE    TO    THE     BA- 
RONNE  DE  MACUMER 

September. 

My  dear,  there  is  for  you  at  Chantepleurs  a  suffi- 
ciently long  answer  to  the  letter  which  you  wrote 
me  from  Marseilles.  This  journey  made  as  lovers 
is  so  far  from  diminishing  the  fears  which  I  ex- 
pressed to  you  in  it,  that  I  entreat  you  to  write  to 
Nivernais  to  have  my  letter  sent  to  you. 

The  Ministry  has  resolved,  it  is  said,  to  dissolve 
the  Chamber.  If  this  is  unfortunate  for  the  Crown, 
which  should  employ  the  last  session  of  this  de- 
voted Legislature  to  secure  the  laws  necessary  to 
the  consolidation  of  power,  it  is  so  for  us  also, — 
Louis  will  not  be  forty  until  the  end  of  1827.  For- 
tunately, my  father,  who  consents  to  become  a  dep- 
uty, will  give  in  his  resignation  in  time. 

Your  godson  has  taken  his  first  steps  without  his 
godmother;  he  is,  moreover,  quite  admirable  and 
begins  to  make  to  me  those  graceful  little  gestures 
which  say  to  me  that  this  is  no  longer  only  an  organ 
which  takes  the  breast,  an  animal  life,  but  a  soul : 
his  smiles  are  full  of  thoughts.  I  am  so  favored  in 
my  trade  of  nurse,  that  I  shall  wean  our  Armand  in 
December.  A  year  of  milk  is  sufficient  The 
children  who  nurse  too  much  become  stupid.  I  be- 
lieve in  the  popular  sayings.  You  should  have  a 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  223 

wild   success    in    Italy,  my   beautiful   blonde.     A 
thousand  tendernesses. 


XXXIX 

THE  BARONNE  DE    MACUMER  TO   THE  VICOMTESSE 
DE  L'ESTORADE 

Rome,  December. 

I  have  your  infamous  letter,  which  at  my  request, 
my  administrator  has  sent  to  me  here  from  Chante- 
pleurs.  Oh  Renee — .  But  I  spare  you  all  that  my 
indignation  could  suggest  to  me.  I  will  only  relate 
to  you  the  effects  produced  by  your  letter.  On  our 
return  from  the  charming  fete  which  had  been  given 
us  by  the  ambassador,  and  where  I  shone  with  all 
my  splendor,  from  which  Macumer  returned  intoxi- 
cated with  his  admiration  for  me  to  such  a  degree 
that  I  should  not  know  how  to  describe  it,  I  read  to 
him  your  horrible  answer,  and  I  read  it  to  him  weep- 
ing at  the  risk  of  appearing  ugly  to  him.  My  dear 
Abencerrage  fell  at  my  feet,  declaring  that  you  were 
as  one  in  her  dotage:  he  led  me  out  on  the  balcony 
of  the  palace  where  we  are  and  from  which  we  can 
see  a  part  of  Rome, — there  his  language  was  worthy 
of  the  scene  which  offered  itself  to  our  eyes;  for 
there  was  a  superb  moonlight  As  we  already 
speak  Italian,  his  love,  expressed  in  this  language 
so  soft  and  so  suitable  for  passion,  appeared  to  me 
sublime.  He  said  to  me  that,  even  if  you  should  be 
a  true  prophet,  he  would  prefer  a  happy  night,  or 


224  MEMOIRS  OF 

one  of  our  delicious  mornings,  to  a  whole  life.  By 
this  counting,  he  had  already  lived  a  thousand 
years.  He  wished  that  I  should  remain  his  mis- 
tress, and  desired  no  other  title  than  that  of  my 
lover.  He  is  so  proud  and  so  happy  to  see  himself 
every  day  the  preferred  one,  that,  if  God  should  ap- 
pear to  him  and  give  him  the  choice  of  living  thirty 
years  longer  according  to  your  doctrine  and  having 
five  children,  or  of  having  only  five  years  more  of 
life  continuing  our  dear  and  flowery  loves,  his  choice 
would  be  made, — he  would  prefer  to  be  loved  as  I 
love  him  and  to  die.  These  protestations  said  in 
my  ear,  my  head  on  his  shoulder,  his  arm  around 
my  waist,  were  troubled  at  that  moment  by  the 
cries  of  some  bat  which  a  screech  owl  had  surprised. 
This  death-cry  made  so  cruel  an  impression  upon 
me  that  Felipe  carried  me  off,  half-fainting,  to  my 
bed.  But  you  may  reassure  yourself!  although 
this  evil  omen  resounded  in  my  soul,  this  morning  I 
am  very  well.  When  I  rose,  I  placed  myself  on  my 
knees  before  Felipe,  and  my  eyes  on  his,  his  hands 
taken  in  mine,  1  said  to  him : 

"My  angel,  I  am  a  child  and  Renee  may  be  right: 
it  is  perhaps  only  love  which  I  love  in  you;  but  at 
least  know  that  there  is  no  other  sentiment  in  my 
heart,  and  that  I  love  you  then  in  my  own  way. 
Truly,  if  in  my  manners,  if  in  the  least  things  of 
my  life  and  of  my  soul,  there  has  been  anything 
whatever  contrary  to  that  which  you  wish  or  hope 
of  me,  tell  it  to  me!  let  me  know  it!  I  shall  have 
pleasure  in  listening  to  you  and  in  conducting 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  22$ 

myself  only  by  the  light  of  your  eyes.     Renee  has 
frightened  me,  she  loves  me  so  much!" 

Macumer  had  no  voice  with  which  to  answer  me, 
he  melted  into  tears.  Now,  I  thank  you,  my  Renee; 
I  did  not  know  how  much  I  was  loved  by  my  splen- 
did, by  my  royal,  Macumer.  Rome  is  the  city  in 
which  one  loves.  When  one  has  a  passion,  it  is 
there  that  you  should  go  to  enjoy  it:  you  will  have 
all  the  arts  and  God  for  confederates.  We  will 
meet  at  Venice  the  Duke  and  the  Duchess  of  Soria. 
If  you  write  to  me,  write  to  me  now  at  Paris,  for 
we  leave  Rome  in  three  days.  The  f£te  of  the  am- 
bassador was  a  farewell  one. 

P.  S.  Dear  imbecile,  your  letter  shows  that  you 
only  know  love  theoretically.  Know  then  that  love 
is  a  principle,  all  the  effects  of  which  are  so  dissim- 
ilar that  no  one  theory  would  know  how  to  embrace 
them  all  nor  to  teach  them  all.  This  is  for  my 
little  doctor  in  a  corset 


XL 

THE  COMTESSE  DE  L'ESTORADE  TO  THE  BARONNE 
DE  MACUMER 

January,  1827. 

My  father  is  appointed,  my  father-in-law  is  dead, 
and  I  am  again  about  to  undergo  the  sufferings  of 
maternity, — these  are  the  events  which  mark  the 
15 


226  MEMOIRS  OF 

end  of  this  year.  I  tell  them  to  you  immediately, 
so  that  the  impression  which  my  black  seal  may 
make  upon  you  may  be  immediately  removed. 

My  mignonne,  your  letter  from  Rome  has  made 
me  shudder.  You  are  two  children.  Felipe  is 
either  a  diplomat  who  has  dissimulated,  or  a  man 
who  loves  you  as  he  would  love  a  courtesan  to 
whom  he  would  abandon  his  fortune  while  knowing 
that  she  betrayed  him.  But  there  is  quite  enough 
of  this.  You  take  me  for  one  in  her  dotage,  I  will 
say  no  more.  But  permit  me  to  say  to  you  that  in 
studying  our  two  destinies  I  draw  from  them  a  cruel 
principle: — Do  you  wish  to  be  loved,  do  not  love. 

Louis,  my  dear,  has  received  the  cross  of  the 
Legion  of  Honor  when  he  was  made  member  of  the 
Council  General.  Now,  as  it  is  nearly  three  years 
that  he  has  been  with  the  Council,  and  that  my 
father,  whom  you  will  doubtless  see  at  Paris  during 
the  Session,  has  asked  for  his  son-in-law  the  grade 
of  officer,  do  me  the  pleasure  to  approach  the  func- 
tionary, whoever  he  may  be,  who  has  charge  of 
this  nomination,  and  to  watch  over  this  little  affair. 
Above  all,  do  not  interest  yourself  in  the  affairs  of 
my  very  honored  father,  the  Comte  de  Maucombe, 
who  wishes  to  obtain  the  title  of  marquis;  keep 
your  favors  for  me.  When  Louis  shall  be  a  deputy, 
that  is  to  say,  next  winter,  we  will  come  to  Paris, 
and  we  will  then  move  heaven  and  earth  there  in 
order  to  secure  for  him  some  office  of  general  direc- 
tion so  that  we  may  be  able  to  save  all  our  income 
by  living  on  the  salary  of  the  office.  My  father 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  227 

sits  between  the  Centre  and  the  Right,  he  asks  only 
a  title ;  our  family  was  already  celebrated  under  the 
King  Rene,  the  King  Charles  X.  will  not  refuse  a 
Maucombe ;  but  I  am  afraid  that  my  father  may  take 
it  into  his  head  to  demand  some  favor  for  my 
younger  brother;  and,  by  putting  the  sugar-plum  of 
the  marquisate  a  little  too  high,  he  may  be  able  to 
think  only  of  himself. 

January  i$th. 

Ah!  Louise,  I  have  come  out  of  Hell !  If  I  have 
the  courage  to  speak  to  you  of  my  sufferings  it  is 
because  you  seem  to  me  my  other  self.  Still  I  do 
not  know  if  I  shall  ever  let  my  thoughts  return  to 
these  five  fatal  days!  The  one  word  "convul- 
sions" gives  me  a  shiver  in  the  very  soul.  It  is 
not  five  days  which  have  just  passed,  but  five  cen- 
turies of  anguish.  So  long  as 'a  mother  has  not 
suffered  this  martyrdom,  she  will  remain  ignorant 
of  the  meaning  of  the  word  suffering.  I  thought 
you  happy  not  to  have  any  children,  you  may  judge 
by  this  of  my  want  of  reason ! 

The  evening  of  the  terrible  day,  the  weather 
which  had  been  heavy  and  almost  hot,  seemed  to 
me  to  have  worried  my  little  Armand.  He,  so  gen- 
tle and  so  caressing,  he  was  peevish  and  cross;  he 
cried  at  everything,  he  wished  to  play  and  broke 
his  toys.  Perhaps  all  sicknesses  announce  them- 
selves in  children  by  changes  of  temper.  Watchful 
of  this  singular  wickedness,  I  observed  in  Armand 
flushes  and  palings  which  I  attributed  to  the  coming 


228  MEMOIRS  OF 

of  four  large  teeth  which  he  was  cutting  at  once. 
Therefore  I  took  him  to  bed  with  me,  waking  from 
time  to  time.  During  the  night  he  had  a  little 
fever  which  did  not  disquiet  me, — I  ascribed  it  all 
to  the  teeth.  Towards  morning  he  said  to  me: 
"Mama!"  asking  for  a  drink  with  a  gesture,  but 
with  a  tone  in  his  voice,  with  a  convulsive  move- 
ment in  the  gesture,  which  froze  my  blood.  I  leaped 
out  of  bed  to  prepare  for  him  his  sugared  water. 
Judge  of  my  fright  when,  in  presenting  the  cup  to 
him,  I  did  not  see  him  make  any  movement;  he 
repeated  only:  "Mama!"  in  that  voice  which  was 
no  longer  his  voice,  which  was  even  not  any  longer 
a  voice.  I  took  his  hand,  but  it  no  longer  responded, 
it  stiffened.  I  put  the  cup  to  his  lips;  the  poor 
little  one  drank  in  a  frightful  manner,  with  three  or 
four  convulsive  swallows,  and  the  water  made  a 
singular  noise  in  his  throat.  Finally  he  grasped 
me  desperately  and  I  saw  his  eyes,  drawn  by  an  in- 
terior force,  become  white,  his  limbs  lose  their  sup- 
pleness. I  uttered  frightened  cries.  Louis  came. 

"A  doctor!  a  doctor! — he  is  dying!"  I  cried  to 
him. 

Louis  disappeared,  and  my  poor  Armand  said 
again:  "Mama!  Mama!"  clinging  to  me.  This  was 
the  last  moment  that  he  knew  that  he  had  a  mother. 
The  pretty  blood-vessels  of  his  forehead  became 
congested,  and  the  convulsions  commenced.  An 
hour  before  the  arrival  of  the  doctors,  I  held  this 
infant  so  lively,  so  white  and  so  pink,  this  flower 
which  made  my  pride  and  my  joy,  stiff  as  a  piece 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  229 

of  wood ;  and  what  eyes !  I  shudder  in  remembering 
them.  Black,  contracted,  misshapen,  mute,  my 
gentle  Armand  was  a  mummy.  A  doctor,  two  doc- 
tors, brought  from  Marseilles  by  Louis,  stood  there 
planted  on  their  legs  like  two  birds  of  evil  augury, 
they  made  me  shiver.  The  one  spoke  of  cerebral 
fever,  the  other  saw  convulsions,  such  as  children 
have.  The  doctor  of  our  canton  seemed  to  me  the 
most  reliable,  because  he  prescribed  nothing.  "It 
is  the  teeth,"  said  the  second. — "It  is  a  fever," 
said  the  first  Finally,  they  agreed  to  put  leeches 
on  the  neck  and  ice  on  the  head.  I  felt  myself  dying. 
To  be  there,  to  see  a  corpse  blue  or  black,  not  a  cry, 
not  a  movement,  in  place  of  a  creature  so  noisy  and 
so  full  of  life!  There  was  a  moment  when  my 
mind  wandered,  and  when  I  had  something  like  a 
fit  of  nervous  laughter  in  seeing  this  pretty  neck, 
which  I  had  so  often  kissed,  bitten  by  the  leeches, 
and  this  charming  head  under  a  cap  of  ice.  My 
dear,  it  was  necessary  to  cut  off  that  pretty  hair 
which  we  admired  so  much,  and  which  you  have 
caressed,  to  be  able  to  put  on  the  ice.  Every  ten 
minutes,  as  in  my  childbirth  pains,  the  convulsions 
returned,  and  the  poor  little  thing  twisted  himself, 
sometimes  pale  and  sometimes  violet  When  they 
struck  against  each  other,  his  limbs,  so  flexible, 
made  a  sound  as  if  they  were  of  wood.  This  in- 
sensible creature  had  smiled  at  me,  had  spoken  to 
me,  had  called  me  but  so  short  a  time  before, 
"Mama!"  With  these  thoughts,  waves  of  sorrow 
traversed  my  soul,  agitating  it  as  the  storms  agitate 


230  MEMOIRS  OF 

the  sea,  and  I  felt  all  the  bonds  by  which  a  child  is 
attached  to  our  heart  loosened.  My  mother,  who 
perhaps  might  have  helped  me,  advised  or  consoled 
me,  is  in  Paris.  The  mothers  know  more  about 
convulsions  than  the  doctors,  I  believe.  After  four 
days  and  four  nights  passed  in  intermissions  and 
^'m  fears  which  almost  killed  me,  the  doctors  were 
all  of  them  resolved  to  apply  a  frightful  pomade  to 
make  wounds!  Oh!  wounds  on  my  Armand  who 
was  playing  five  days  before,  who  smiled,  who  tried 
to  say:  "Godmother!"  I  refused  to  consent,  wish- 
ing to  trust  to  nature.  Louis  scolded  me,  he  be- 
lieved in  the  doctors.  A  man  is  always  a  man. 
But  there  are  in  these  terrible  maladies  moments 
when  they  take  the  form  of  death ;  and  during  one 
of  these  moments,  this  remedy,  which  I  abominated, 
appeared  to  me  to  be  the  salvation  of  Armand.  My 
Louise,  his  skin  was  so  dry,  so  rough,  and  without 
feeling,  that  the  ointment  did  not  take.  I  threw 
myself  in  tears  on  the  bed,  weeping  so  that  the  side 
of  the  bed  was  all  wet  The  doctors  were  dining! 
they  were!  Seeing  myself  alone,  I  took  off  my 
child  all  the  doctors'  local  applications,  I  took  him, 
almost  mad,  in  my  arms,  I  pressed  him  against  my 
chest,  1  leaned  my  forehead  on  his  forehead  praying 
God  to  give  him  my  life,  all  the  while  endeavoring 
to  communicate  it  to  him.  1  held  him  in  this  man- 
ner for  several  minutes,  wishing  to  die  with  him  so 
as  not  to  be  separated  from  him,  neither  in  life  nor 
in  death.  My  dear,  I  felt  his  members  relax;  the 
convulsions  had  yielded,  my  child  had  moved,  the 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  231 

sinister  and  horrible  colors  had  disappeared!  I 
cried  out  as  I  had  done  when  he  fell  ill,  the  doctors 
came  upstairs,  I  showed  to  them  Armand. 

"He  is  saved !"  cried  the  oldest  of  the  physicians. 

Oh!  what  a  word!  what  music!  The  heavens 
opened.  In  fact,  two  hours  later  Armand  came  to 
life  again;  but  I  was  extinguished,  I  should  have 
fallen  ill  of  some  malady  had  it  not  been  for  the 
balm  of  joy.  Oh,  my  God!  by  what  sorrows  do 
you  attach  the  child  to  its  mother!  what  nails  you 
drive  into  the  heart  so  that  he  may  cling  to  them! 
Was  I  not  then  enough  of  a  mother  already,  I  whom 
the  stammerings  and  the  first  steps  of  this  infant 
had  caused  to  weep  for  joy !  I  who  had  studied  him 
through  entire  hours  so  that  I  might  thoroughly 
fulfill  my  duties,  and  instruct  myself  in  the  sweet 
business  of  a  mother!  Was  it  necessary  to  cause 
these  terrors,  to  offer  these  frightful  images  to  her 
who  makes  of  her  child  an  idol  ?  At  this  moment 
when  I  am  writing  to  you,  our  Armand  is  playing, 
he  cries,  he  laughs.  I  am  endeavoring  to  find  out 
the  causes  of  this  horrible  sickness  of  children, 
remembering  that  I  am  pregnant  Is  it  the  growth 
of  the  teeth?  is  it  some  peculiar  operation  which 
takes  place  in  the  head?  Have  the  children  who 
suffer  from  convulsions  an  imperfection  in  the  nerv- 
ous system  ?  All  these  ideas  disquiet  me  as  much 
for  the  present  as  for  the  future.  Our  country  doc- 
tor believes  in  a  nervous  excitation  caused  by  the 
teeth.  I  would  give  all  mine  to  have  those  of  our 
little  Armand  all  complete.  When  I  see  one  of  those 


232  MEMOIRS  OF 

white  pearls  showing  itself  in  the  middle  of  his 
inflamed  gums,  it  now  gives  me  cold  sweats.  The 
heroism  with  which  this  dear  angel  suffers  shows 
me  that  he  will  have  all  my  character;  he  gives  me 
looks  which  might  melt  the  heart.  The  science  of 
medicine  does  not  know  much  about  this  species  of 
tetanus  which  ends  as  rapidly  as  it  begins,  which 
can  neither  be  foreseen  nor  cured.  I  repeat  it  to 
you,  one  thing  alone  is  certain, — to  see  her  child  in 
convulsions,  that  is  the  Hell  of  mothers.  With 
what  rage  I  embrace  him!  Oh!  how  long  I  keep 
him  on  my  arm  in  walking  him  up  and  down!  To 
have  had  this  anguish  when  I  must  again  give  birth 
to  an  infant  in  six  weeks,  this  was  a  horrible 
aggravation  of  martyrdom,  I  was  afraid  for  the  other ! 
Adieu,  my  dear  and  well  beloved  Louise;  do  not 
wish  to  have  any  children,  this  is  my  last  word. 


XLI 


THE  BARONNE    DE    MACUMER    TO    THE    COMTESSE 
DE  L'ESTORADE 

Paris. 

Poor  angel,  Macumer  and  I,  we  have  forgiven 
your  badnesses  in  learning  how  you  have  been  tor- 
mented. I  shuddered,  I  suffered  in  reading  the  de- 
tails of  that  double  torture,  and  I  am  now  less 
distressed  at  not  being  a  mother.  I  hasten  to  an- 
nounce to  you  the  nomination  of  Louis,  who  may 
now  wear  the  rosette  of  an  officer.  You  desire  a 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  233 

little  girl;  probably  you  will  have  one,  happy 
Renee!  The  marriage  of  my  brother  and  Made- 
moiselle de  Mortsauf  was  celebrated  on  our  return. 
Our  charming  king,  who  certainly  is  of  an  admira- 
ble goodness,  has  given  to  my  brother  the  reversion 
of  the  office  of  First  Gentleman  of  the  Chamber 
which  is  filled  by  his  father-in-law. 

"The  office  should  go  with  the  titles,"  he  said  to 
the  Due  de  Lenoncourt-Givry. 

Only,  he  desired  that  the  arms  of  Mortsauf  should 
be  united  to  those  of  Lenoncourt. 

My  father  was  right  a  hundred  times.  Had  it  not 
been  for  my  fortune,  nothing  of  all  this  would  have 
taken  place.  My  father  and  my  mother  have  come 
from  Madrid  for  this  marriage  and  return  there  after 
the  fete  which  I  give  to-morrow  to  the  newly  mar- 
ried couple.  The  carnival  will  be  very  brilliant 
The  Duke  and  the  Duchess  of  Soria  are  in  Paris ; 
their  presence  disquiets  me  a  little.  Marie  Heredia 
is  certainly  one  of  the  most  beautiful  women  of 
Europe,  I  do  not  like  the  manner  in  which  Felipe 
looks  at  her.  Thus,  I  redouble  my  love  and  my 
tenderness.  "She  would  never  have  loved  you 
thus!"  is  a  speech  which  I  am  very  careful  not  to 
make,  but  which  is  written  in  all  my  looks,  in  all 
my  movements.  God  knows  if  I  am  elegant  and 
coquettish.  Yesterday,  Madame  de  Maufrigneuse 
said  to  me : 

"Dear  child,  we  have  to  lay  down  our  arms  to 
you!" 

In  short,  I  amuse  Felipe  so  much  that  he  should 


234  MEMOIRS  OF 

find  his  sister-in-law  as  stupid  as  a  Spanish  cow.  I 
have  so  much  the  less  regret  at  not  making  a  little 
Abencerrage,  that  the  duchess  will  doubtless  have 
her  baby  in  Paris,  she  is  going  to  become  ugly;  if 
she  has  a  boy,  he  will  be  named  Felipe  in  honor  of 
the  banished  one.  A  malicious  chance  will  cause 
me  to  be  godmother  again.  Adieu,  dear.  I  shall 
go  early  this  year  to  Chantepleurs,  for  our  journey 
costs  exorbitant  sums;  I  shall  depart  about  the  end 
of  March  in  order  to  go  and  live  economically  in 
Nivernais.  Paris  wearies  me,  moreover.  Felipe 
sighs  as  much  as  I  for  the  beautiful  solitude  of  our 
park,  our  fresh  meadows  and  our  Loire  spangled 
with  its  sands,  and  which  no  other  river  resembles. 
Chantepleurs  will  appear  to  me  delightful  after  the 
pomps  and  the  vanities  of  Italy;  for,  after  all,  mag- 
nificence is  tiresome,  and  the  regard  of  a  lover  is 
more  beautiful  than  a  capo  d' opera,  than  a  bel  quadro  ! 
We  shall  expect  you  there;  I  shall  no  longer  be 
jealous  of  you.  You  may  sound  at  your  leisure  the 
heart  of  my  Macumer,  fish  in  it  for  interjections, 
bring  out  of  it  scruples,  I  deliver  it  to  you  with  a 
superb  confidence.  Since  the  scene  in  Rome,  Felipe 
loves  me  still  more;  he  said  tome  yesterday — he  is 
looking  over  my  shoulder — that  his  sister-in-law, 
the  Marie  of  his  youth,  his  former  fiancee,  the  Prin- 
cess Heredia,  his  first  dream,  was  stupid.  Oh! 
dear,  1  am  worse  than  a  dancer  at  the  Opera,  this 
insult  caused  me  pleasure.  1  have  caused  Felipe  to 
remark  that  she  does  not  speak  French  correctly, — 
she  pronounces  esemple  for  exemple,  sain  for  cinq, 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  235 

cheu  for/0;  in  short,  she  is  beautiful  but  she  has  no 
grace,  she  has  not  the  least  vivacity  of  spirit 
When  you  address  a  compliment  to  her  she  looks  at 
you  like  a  woman  who  is  not  accustomed  to  receiv- 
ing them.  With  the  character  which  he  has,  he 
would  have  left  Marie  after  two  months  of  marriage. 
The  Due  de  Soria,  Don  Fernand,  is  very  well 
matched  with  her ;  he  is  generous  but  he  is  a  spoiled 
child,  that  is  to  be  seen.  I  could  be  wicked  and 
make  you  laugh ;  but  I  am  sticking  to  the  truth.  A 
thousand  tendernesses,  my  angel. 


XLII 
RENEE  TO  LOUISE 

My  little  girl  is  two  months  old:  my  mother  was 
the  godmother,  and  an  old  grand-uncle  of  Louis,  the 
godfather  of  this  little  one,  who  is  named  Jeanne- 
Athenais. 

As  soon  as  I  shall  be  able,  I  shall  set  out  to  come 
and  see  you  at  Chantepleurs,  since  a  nurse  does  not 
frighten  you.  Your  godson  says  your  name,  he 
pronounces  itMatoumer!  for  he  cannot  say  the  "C" 
any  other  way;  you  will  dote  on  him;  he  has  all 
•his  teeth;  he  eats  meat  now  like  a  big  boy,  he  runs 
and  trots  like  a  rat;  but  I  follow  him  everywhere 
with  anxious  glances  and  I  am  in  despair  at  not 
being  able  to  keep  him  near  me  during  my  confine- 
ment, which  requires  more  than  forty  days  in  my 
room,  because  of  some  precautions  ordered  by  the 


236  MEMOIRS  OF 

doctors.  Alas!  my  child,  one  does  not  get  into  the 
habit  of  bearing  children !  The  same  pains  and  the 
same  apprehensions  return.  Nevertheless — do  not 
show  my  letter  to  Felipe — I  count  for  something  in 
the  making  of  this  little  girl,  who  may  perhaps 
wrong  your  Armand. 

My  father  found  Felipe  grown  thinner,  and  my 
dear  mignonne  a  little  thinner  also.  However,  the 
Duke  and  the  Duchess  of  Soria  have  departed, — 
there  is  no  longer  the  least  occasion  for  jealousy! 
Are  you  hiding  from  me  some  grief?  Your  letter 
was  neither  as  long  nor  as  affectionately  conceived 
as  the  others.  Is  it  only  a  caprice  of  my  dear 
capricious  one? 

This  is  already  too  much,  my  nurse  scolds  me  for 
writing  to  you,  and  Mademoiselle  Athenais  de 
1'Estorade  wishes  to  dine.  Farewell  then;  write 
me  good  long  letters. 


XLIII 

MADAME     DE     MACUMER    TO    THE    COMTESSE     DE 
L'ESTORADE 

For  the  first  time  in  my  life,  my  dear  Renee,  I 
have  wept  alone  under  a  willow  on  a  wooden  bench 
on  the  shores  of  my  long  pond  of  Chantepleurs,  a 
delightful  view  which  you  are  coming  to  embellish, 
for  there  is  wanting  to  it  only  joyful  children.  Your 
fruitful  ness  has  caused  me  to  turn  my  thoughts  upon 
myself,  who  have  no  children  after  nearly  three 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  237 

years  of  married  life.  "Oh!"  I  thought,  "though 
I  should  suffer  a  hundred  times  more  than  Renee 
suffered  in  giving  birth  to  my  godson,  though  I 
should  see  my  child  in  convulsions,  grant,  my  God, 
that  I  should  have  an  angelic  creature  like  that  little 
Athenais  whom  I  see  from  here  as  beautiful  as  the 
day!"  for  you  have  said  nothing  to  me  about  her! 
I  have  recognized  in  that  my  Renee.  It  seems  that 
you  guess  my  sufferings.  Each  time  that  my  hopes 
are  disappointed  I  am  for  several  days  given  up  to 
a  dark  grief. — I  can  then  only  make  sombre  elegies. 
When  shall  I  embroider  little  caps?  when  shall  I 
select  the  linen  of  a  baby's  wardrobe?  when  shall  I 
sew  pretty  laces  to  envelop  a  little  head?  Shall  I 
then  never  hear  one  of  these  charming  creatures  call 
me  "mama,"  hold  me  by  my  dress,  tyrannize  over 
me  ?  Shall  I  then  never  see  on  the  sand  the  tracks  of 
a  little  baby-carriage?  Shall  I  never  pick  up  the 
broken  playthings  in  my  courtyard?  Shall  I  not  go, 
like  so  many  mothers  whom  I  have  seen,  into  the 
toyshops  to  buy  sabres,  dolls,  little  households? 
Shall  I  never  see  developing  that  life  and  that  angel 
who  would  be  another  Felipe  even  more  loved?  I 
would  wish  to  have  a  son  in  order  to  know  how  you 
could  love  your  lover  more  than  he  is,  in  another 
himself.  My  park,  the  chateau,  seem  to  me 
deserted  and  cold.  A  woman  without  children  is  a 
monstrosity;  we  are  only  made  to  be  mothers. 
Oh!  doctor  in  a  corset  that  you  are,  you  have  truly 
seen  life.  Barrenness,  moreover,  is  horrible  in 
everything.  My  life  resembles  a  little  too  much 


238  MEMOIRS  OF 

those  pastorals  of  Gessner  and  of  Florian,  in  which 
Rivarol  said  that  wolves  were  wanted.  I  wish  to 
be  devoted  also,  I!  1  am  conscious  in  myself  of 
forces  which  Felipe  neglects;  and,  if  I  am  not  a 
mother,  it  will  be  necessary  that  I  should  be  satisfied 
with  the  fancy  of  some  unhappiness.  This  is  what 
I  have  said  to  my  scion  of  the  Moors,  for  whom 
these  words  brought  tears  to  his  eyes ;  he  was  let  off 
by  being  called  a  sublime  animal,  you  cannot  jest 
with  him  on  his  love. 

At  moments  I  am  taken  with  a  desire  to  do  some 
novenas,  to  go  and  ask  for  fruitful  ness  of  certain 
Madonnas  or  of  certain  waters.  Next  winter  I  will 
consult  the  physicians.  I  am  too  furious  against 
myself  to  say  more  about  it.  Adieu. 

XLIV 
THE  SAME  TO  THE   SAME 

Paris,  1829. 

How,  my  dear,  a  year  without  any  letter? — I  am 
a  little  vexed.  Do  you  think  that  your  Louis,  who 
comes  to  see  me  almost  every  other  day,  takes  your 
place?  It  is  not  sufficient  for  me  to  know  that  you 
are  not  sick  and  that  your  affairs  are  all  going  well ; 
I  wish  to  have  your  sentiments  and  your  ideas  as  I 
send  you  mine,  at  the  risk  of  being  scolded,  or 
blamed,  or  misunderstood,  for  I  love  you.  Your 
silence  and  your  retreat  in  the  country,  when  you 
could  enjoy  here  the  parliamentary  triumph  of  the 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  239 

Comte  de  1'Estorade,  whose  gift  of  speech  and 
whose  devotion  have  acquired  for  him  an  influence, 
and  who  doubtless  will  fill  a  very  high  position 
after  the  session,  fills  me  with  grave  disquietude. 
Are  you  then  passing  your  life,  in  writing  in- 
structions to  him?  Numa  was  not  so  far  from 
his  Egeria.  Why  have  you  not  seized  the  occasion 
to  see  Paris?  I  should  have  been  enjoying  you  for 
the  last  four  months.  Louis  said  to  me  yesterday 
that  you  would  come  to  get  him  and  to  have  your  third 
child  in  Paris,  frightful  mother  Gigone  that  you  are! 
After  many  questions,  exclamations  and  complaints, 
Louis,  diplomat  though  he  is,  ended  by  telling  me 
that  his  great-uncle,  the  godfather  of  Athenais,  was 
very  ill.  Now,  I  suppose  you  capable,  as  a  good 
mother  of  a  family,  of  making  use  of  the  glory  and 
of  the  discourses  of  the  deputy  to  obtain  a  desirable 
legacy  from  the  last  maternal  relative  of  your  hus- 
band. You  may  rest  easy,  my  Renee,  the  Lenon- 
courts,  the  Chaulieus,  the  salon  of  Madame  de 
Macumer,  are  working  for  Louis.  Martignac  will 
put  him  without  doubt  in  the  Cour  des  Comptes. 
But,  if  you  do  not  tell  me  why  you  remain  in  the 
provinces,  I  shall  be  vexed.  Is  it  so  as  not  to  have 
the  air  of  being  in  yourself  all  the  politics  of  the 
house  of  De  1'Estorade?  is  it  for  the  inheritance  of 
the  uncle?  are  you  afraid  of  being  less  a  mother  in 
Paris?  Oh!  how  I  should  like  to  know  if  it  is  to 
prevent  your  being  seen  for  the  first  time  in  your 
state  of  pregnancy,  coquette !  Adieu. 


240  MEMOIRS  OF 

XLV 
RENEE  TO  LOUISE 

You  complain  of  my  silence, you  forget  then  these 
two  little  brown  heads  which  I  govern  and  which 
govern  me  ?  You  have,  moreover,  found  some  of  the 
reasons  which  I  have  for  keeping  the  house.  Not 
to  consider  the  condition  of  our  precious  uncle,  1  have 
not  wished  to  drag  to  Paris  a  boy  of  about  four  years 
and  a  little  girl  of  nearly  three,  while  I  am  still 
enceinte.  I  have  not  wished  to  embarrass  your  life 
and  your  house  with  such  a  household,  I  have  not 
wished  to  appear  to  my  disadvantage  in  the  brill- 
iant world  where  you  reign,  and  1  hold  furnished 
apartments,  the  life  of  hotels,  in  horror.  The  great- 
uncle  of  Louis,  on  hearing  of  the  nomination  of  his 
great-nephew,  presented  me  with  the  half  of  his 
savings,  two  hundred  thousand  francs,  to  buy  a 
house  in  Paris,  and  Louis  is  charged  with  finding 
one  in  your  quarter.  My  mother  gives  me  thirty 
thousand  francs  for  the  furniture.  When  I  shall 
establish  myself  for  the  session  in  Paris,  I  shall  go 
to  my  own  house.  Finally,  I  shall  endeavor  to  be 
worthy  of  my  dear  sister  of  election,  be  it  said 
without  playing  on  words. 

I  thank  you  for  having  placed  Louis  as  well  at 
Court  as  he  is;  but,  notwithstanding  the  esteem  in 
which  he  is  held  by  Messieurs  Bourmont  and  De 
Polignac,  who  wish  to  have  him  in  their  ministry,  I 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  241 

do  not  wish  him  at  all  to  be  so  prominent, — one  is 
then  too  much  compromised.  I  prefer  the  Cour  des 
Comptes  because  of  its  permanency.  Our  affairs 
here  are  in  very  good  hands  and  when  once  our 
superintendent  has  got  things  well  in  shape,  I  will 
come  to  second  Louis,  you  may  be  sure. 

As  to  writing  long  letters  now,  can  I  do  it?  This 
one,  in  which  I  would  wish  to  depict  for  you  the 
ordinary  events  of  my  days,  will  remain  on  my 
table  for  a  week.  Perhaps  Armand  will  make  of  it 
little  paper  cocks  for  his  regiments  drawn  up  on  my 
carpet,  or  ships  for  the  fleets  which  navigate  in  his 
bath.  One  of  my  days  will  be  sufficient  for  you, 
moreover,  they  are  all  alike  and  they  reduce  them- 
selves to  two  events, — the  children  are  sick  or  the 
children  are  not  sick.  Literally,  for  me  in  this  sol- 
itary country  house,  the  minutes  are  hours  or  the 
hours  are  minutes,  according  to  the  state  the  children 
are  in.  If  I  have  some  delicious  hours,  it  is  during 
their  sleep,  when  I  am  not  rocking  one  and  telling 
stories  to  the  other  to  put  them  to  sleep.  When  I 
have  them  both  asleep  near  me,  I  say  to  myself: 
— "I  have  nothing  more  to  fear." 

In  fact,  my  dear,  during  the  daytime  all  mothers 
invent  dangers  as  soon  as  the  children  are  no  longer 
under  their  eyes.  It  is  some  stolen  razors  with 
which  Armand  wished  to  play,  the  fire  which  kindles 
his  jacket,  a  snake  which  may  bite  him,  a  fall 
while  running  which  may  cause  an  abscess  in  his 
head,  or  fountain  basins,  in  which  he  may  drown 
himself.  As  you  see,  maternity  includes  a  series 
16 


242  MEMOIRS  OF 

of  poesies  sweet  or  terrible.  Not  an  hour  which 
has  not  its  joys  and  its  fears.  But,  in  the  evening 
in  my  chamber,  comes  the  hour  of  waking  dreams 
during  which  I  arrange  their  destinies.  Their  life 
is  then  lit  up  by  the  smile  of  the  angels  which  I  see 
at  their  bedside.  Sometimes  Armand  calls  me  in  his 
sleep,  I  come  to  kiss  unknown  to  him  his  forehead 
or  the  feet  of  his  sister,  contemplating  them  both  in 
their  beauty.  These  are  my  festivals !  Yesterday, 
our  guardian  angel,  I  think,  made  me  go  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  night  in  great  apprehension  to  the  cradle 
of  Athenais  who  had  her  head  too  low,  and  I  found 
our  Armand  all  uncovered,  his  feet  blue  with  cold. 

"Oh!  little  mother!"  he  said  to  me  waking  and 
embracing  me. 

This  is,  my  dear,  a  scene  of  the  night 
How  useful  it  is  to  a  mother  to  have  her  children 
at  her  side !  Is  there  any  nurse,  however  good  she 
may  be,  who  can  take  them,  reassure  them  and  put 
them  to  sleep  again  when  some  horrible  nightmare 
has  awakened  them  ?  for  they  have  their  dreams, 
— and  to  explain  to  them  one  of  these  terrible  dreams 
is  a  task  so  much  the  more  difficult  that  a  child 
listens  to  its  mother  then  with  an  eye  at  once  sleepy, 
frightened,  intelligent  and  silly.  It  is  a  difficult 
and  elegant  point  of  music  executed  between  two 
sleeps.  Thus  my  sleep  has  become  so  light  that  I 
see  my  two  little  ones  and  hear  them  through  the 
gauze  of  my  eyelids.  I  awake  at  a  sigh,  at  a  move- 
ment. The  monster  of  the  convulsions  is  for  me 
forever  crouched  at  the  foot  of  their  beds. 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  243 

In  the  morning,  the  prattle  of  my  two  children 
commences  with  the  first  songs  of  the  birds.  Through 
the  veils  of  their  last  sleep,  their  gibberish  resembles 
the  chirpings  of  the  morning,  the  disputes  of  the 
swallows,  little  cries  joyful  or  plaintive,  which  I 
hear  less  with  the  ears  than  with  the  heart.  While 
Nais  endeavors  to  reach  me  by  undertaking  the 
journey  from  her  cradle  to  my  bed,  drawing  her- 
self by  her  hands  and  making  uncertain  steps,  Ar- 
mand  climbs  with  the  skill  of  a  monkey  and 
embraces  me.  These  two  little  ones  make  then  of 
my  bed  the  theatre  of  their  plays,  where  the  mother 
is  at  their  discretion.  The  little  one  pulls  my 
hair,  always  wants  to  nurse,  and  Armand  defends 
my  breast  as  if  it  were  his  personal  property.  I  do 
not  resist  certain  attitudes,  little  laughs  which  go 
off  like  rockets  and  which  end  by  driving  away  all 
sleep.  Then  there  is  the  play  of  the  ogress,  and 
mother  ogress  devours  with  caresses  this  young 
flesh,  so  bright  and  so  soft;  she  kisses  outrageously 
those  eyes  so  coquettish  in  their  malice,  those  rosy 
shoulders,  and  little  jealousies  are  excited  which 
are  charming.  There  are  days  in  which  I  endeavor 
to  put  on  my  stockings  at  eight  o'clock  and  when  I 
have  not  yet  got  one  on  at  nine  o'clock. 

Finally,  my  dear,  everyone  gets  up.  The  toilets 
commence.  1  put  on  my  dressing-gown, — I  roll  up 
my  sleeves,  and  put  on  an  oil-cloth  apron;  I  bathe 
and  cleanse  then  my  two  little  flowers,  assisted  by 
Mary.  I  alone,  I  am  the  judge  of  the  degree  of  heat 
or  of  the  tepidness  of  the  water,  for  the  temperature 


244  MEMOIRS  OF 

of  the  baths  to  me  counts  for  the  half  in  the  cries, 
in  the  tears  of  the  children.  Then  there  come  up 
paper  fleets,  little  ducks  in  glass.  It  is  necessary  to 
amuse  the  children  in  order  to  be  able  to  clean  them 
well.  If  you  knew  all  that  it  was  necessary  to  in- 
vent in  the  way  of  pleasures  for  these  absolute 
kings  in  order  to  be  able  to  pass  soft  sponges  into 
the  least  corners,  you  would  be  frightened  at  the 
address  and  the  wit  which  are  required  to  fulfill 
gloriously  the  duty  of  a  mother.  You  supplicate, 
you  scold,  you  promise,  you  practise  a  humbugging 
all  the  more  superior  that  it  has  to  be  admirably 
concealed.  One  would  not  know  how  to  succeed  if 
to  the  shrewdness  of  the  child  God  had  not  opposed 
the  shrewdness  of  the  mother.  An  infant  is  a  great 
politician,  of  whom  one  secures  the  mastery  as  of 
the  great  politician — by  his  passions.  Happily, 
these  angels  laugh  at  everything, — a  brush  which 
falls,  a  cake  of  soap  which  slips,  then  there  are  out- 
bursts of  joy!  Finally,  if  the  triumphs  are  dearly 
purchased,  there  are  at  least  triumphs.  But  God 
alone,  for  the  father  himself  knows  nothing  of  this, 
God,  yourself  or  the  angels,  you  alone  could  then 
comprehend  the  looks  which  I  exchange  with  Mary 
when,  after  having  finished  dressing  our  two  little 
creatures  we  see  them  clean  in  the  midst  of  the 
soaps,  the  sponges,  the  combs,  the  basins,  the  blot- 
ting-paper, the  flannels,  the  thousand  details  of  a 
veritable  nursery.  I  have  become  English  in  this 
regard,  I  am  convinced  that  the  women  of  that 
country  have  the  genius  of  nursing.  Although  they 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  245 

consider  the  infant  only  from  the  point  of  view  of 
material  and  physical  well-being,  they  are  justified 
in  their  improvements.  Thus  my  children  will 
always  have  their  feet  in  flannel  and  their  legs 
naked.  They  will  be  neither  bandaged  nor  com- 
pressed, but  also  they  will  never  be  alone.  The 
confinement  of  the  French  child  in  his  little  band- 
ages means  the  freedom  of  the  nurse,  this  is  the 
whole  truth.  A  true  mother  is  not  free, — this  is 
why  I  do  not  write  to  you,  having  on  my  hands  the 
administration  of  the  domain  and  two  children  to 
bring  up.  The  science  of  the  mother  requires 
silent  merits  unknown  of  all,  without  parade,  a  vir- 
tue in  detail,  a  devotion  of  every  hour.  It  is  neces- 
sary to  keep  a  watch  on  the  soups  which  are  making 
before  the  fire.  Do  you  think  me  the  woman  to 
neglect  a  duty  ?  In  the  least  care  there  is  affection 
to  be  gathered.  Oh !  it  is  so  pretty,  the  smile  of 
an  infant  who  finds  his  little  repast  excellent. 
Armand  has  small  shakings  of  the  head  which  are 
worth  a  whole  life  of  love.  How  leave  to  another 
woman  the  right,  the  care,  the  pleasure,  to  blow  on 
a  spoonful  of  soup  which  Nals  would  find  too  hot, 
she  whom  I  weaned  seven  months  ago  and  who  is 
still  always  thinking  of  the  breast?  When  the 
nurse  has  burned  the  tongue  and  the  lips  of  a  child 
with  something  too  hot  she  says  to  the  mother  who 
comes  hastily  that  it  is  hunger  which  made  it  cry. 
But  how  can  a  mother  sleep  in  peace  with  the 
thought  that  impure  breaths  can  pass  over  the 
spoonfuls  swallowed  by  her  child,  she  to  whom 


246  MEMOIRS  OF 

nature  has  not  permitted  to  have  any  intermediary 
between  her  breast  and  the  lips  of  her  nursling! 
To  cut  up  the  cutlet  of  Nais  who  is  getting  her  last 
teeth  and  to  mix  this  meat,  cooked  just  to  the  right 
turn,  with  the  potatoes,  is  a  work  of  patience,  and 
truly  there  is  no  one  but  a  mother  who  would  know 
how  in  certain  cases  to  cause  the  entire  meal  to  be 
eaten  by  a  child  who  is  impatient  Neither  numer- 
ous domestics  nor  an  English  nurse  can  then  dis- 
pense for  a  mother  with  the  duty  of  being  personally 
present  on  the  field  of  battle  where  gentleness 
should  contend  with  the  little  griefs  of  childhood, 
with  its  sorrows.  Truly,  Louise,  it  is  necessary  to 
care  for  these  dear  innocents  with  the  soul ;  it  is 
necessary  to  believe  only  in  one's  eyes,  only  in  the 
trial  by  hand  for  the  toilet,  for  the  nursing  and  for 
the  putting  to  bed.  This  may  be  accepted  as  a 
principle,  an  infant's  cry  is  an  absolute  demonstra- 
tion of  proof  that  the  mother  or  the  nurse  is  in  the 
wrong  when  the  cry  is  not  occasioned  by  some 
natural  suffering.  Since  I  have  two  and  will  soon 
have  three  to  take  care  of,  I  have  nothing  in  my 
soul  but  my  children;  and  yourself,  whom  I  love  so 
much,  you  are  only  in  the  state  of  a  memory.  I  am 
not  always  completely  dressed  at  two  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon.  Thus  I  have  no  faith  in  those  mothers 
who  have  the  apartments  all  in  order  and  the  collars, 
the  dresses,  everything,  carefully  put  away.  Yes- 
terday, in  the  first  days  of  April,  the  weather  was 
fine,  I  wished  to  take  them  for  a  walk  before  my 
lying-in,  the  hour  of  which  is  at  hand, — well,  for  a 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  247 

mother,  an  excursion  like  this  is  a  whole  poem,  and 
one  promises  it  to  one's  self  the  evening  before  for 
the  next  day.  Armand  was  to  put  on  for  the  first  time 
a  jacket  of  black  velvet,  a  new  collarette  which  I 
had  embroidered,  a  Scotch  cap  with  the  colors  of 
the  Stuarts  and  with  cock  feathers ;  Nais  was  to  go 
in  white  and  pink  with  the  delicious  bonnets  of  the 
babies,  for  she  is  still  a  baby ;  she  is  going  to  lose 
this  pretty  name  when  the  little  one  comes  who  is 
now  giving  me  kicks  and  whom  I  call  "my  beggar," 
for  he  will  be  the  youngest.  I  have  already  seen 
my  child  in  a  dream  and  know  that  I  shall  have  a 
boy.  Bonnets,  collarettes,  jackets,  the  little  stock- 
ings, the  fine  shoes,  the  little  pink  bandages  for  the 
legs,  the  dress  in  muslin  embroidered  in  designs  in 
silk,  everything  was  spread  out  on  my  bed.  When 
these  two  little  birds  so  gay,  and  who  comprehend 
so  well,  had  had  their  brown  hair  curled  for  one  of 
them,  prettily  brought  down  on  the  forehead  around 
the  edges  of  the  white  and  pink  bonnet  for  the  other ; 
when  the  shoes  had  been  fastened ;  when  these  little 
bare  legs,  these  feet  so  well  shod,  had  trotted  about 
in  the  nursery ;  when  these  two  faces  deanes,  as 
Mary  says  in  her  limpid  French:  when  these  spark- 
ling eyes  said:  "Let  us  go!"  I  palpitated.  Oh! 
to  see  these  children  adorned  by  our  own  hands,  to 
see  their  skin  so  fresh  in  which  the  blue  veins 
shine;  when  one  has  bathed  them,  fomented  them, 
sponged  them  one's  self,  set  them  off  with  the  lively 
colors  of  velvet  or  of  silk, — why  it  is  better  than  a 
poem !  With  what  passion,  scarcely  to  be  satisfied, 


248  MEMOIRS  OF 

one  calls  them  back  to  kiss  again  these  necks  which 
a  simple  collarette  renders  prettier  than  that  of  the 
most  beautiful  woman  ?  Those  pictures,  before  the 
most  stupid  colored  lithographic  copies  of  which  all 
mothers  stop  to  look,  I,  I  make  them  every  day ! 

Once  out  of  doors,  enjoying  the  result  of  my 
labors,  admiring  this  little  Armand  who  had  the  air 
of  a  son  of  a  prince  and  who  made  the  baby  walk 
along  that  little  road  which  you  know,  a  carriage 
came  up,  I  wished  to  draw  them  to  one  side,  the  two 
infants  rolled  in  a  mud  puddle  and  there  were  my 
masterpieces  ruined!  It  was  necessary  to  bring 
them  home  again  and  put  other  clothes  on  them.  I 
took  my  little  one  in  my  arms,  without  seeing  that 
I  ruined  my  dress,  Mary  took  up  Armand,  and  we 
came  back  in  this  condition.  When  baby  cries  and 
an  infant  is  wet  or  soiled  everything  is  said, — a 
mother  no  longer  thinks  of  herself,  she  is  absorbed. 

When  the  dinner  hour  arrives,  it  most  frequently 
happens  that  I  have  nothing  done ;  and  how  can  I 
suffice  to  serve  them  both,  to  put  on  the  napkins,  to 
roll  up  their  sleeves  and  to  make  them  eat?  this  is  a 
problem  which  I  solve  twice  a  day.  In  the  midst 
of  these  perpetual  cares,  of  these  f£tes  or  of  these 
disasters,  I  am  the  only  one  forgotten  in  the  house. 
It  often  happens  to  me  to  go  in  curl-papers  all  day 
when  the  children  have  been  naughty.  My  toilet 
depends  upon  their  humor.  To  have  a  moment  to 
myself,  in  order  to  write  you  these  six  pages,  it  is 
necessary  that  they  should  cut  up  the  pictures  in 
my  novels,  that  they  should  build  houses  with 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  249 

books,  with  chess-men  or  with  mother-of-pearl 
counters;  that  Nais  should  take  to  pieces  my  silks 
or  my  woolens  in  her  own  manner,  which,  I  assure 
you,  is  so  complicated  that  she  brings  all  her  little 
intelligence  to  the  work  and  does  not  utter  a  word. 

After  all,  I  have  nothing  to  complain  of, — my  two 
children  are  strong,  free,  and  they  amuse  themselves 
at  less  expense  than  would  be  thought  They  are 
happy  with  everything,  they  require  rather  a  free- 
dom that  is  watched  over  than  playthings.  Some 
red,  yellow,  blue  or  black  pebbles,  little  shells,  the 
wonders  of  the  sand,  make  all  their  happiness.  To 
possess  a  great  many  little  things,  that  is  their 
riches.  1  watch  Armand,  he  talks  to  the  flowers,  to 
the  flies,  to  the  chickens,  he  imitates  them;  he 
comes  to  an  understanding  with  the  insects,  which 
fill  him  with  admiration.  Everything  which  is  little 
interests  him.  Armand  commences  to  ask  the  why  of 
everything;  he  has  just  come  to  see  what  I  was  say- 
ing to  his  godmother;  he  takes  you  moreover  for  a 
fairy, — you  see  how  the  children  are  always  right! 

Alas!  my  angel,  I  do  not  wish  to  sadden  you  by 
relating  to  you  these  happinesses.  This  may  serve 
to  describe  to  you  your  godson.  The  other  day  a 
poor  man  followed  us,  for  the  poor  know  that  no 
mother  accompanied  by  her  child  will  ever  refuse  a 
charity.  Armand  does  not  yet  know  that  one  can 
want  for  bread,  he  is  ignorant  of  what  money  is ; 
but  as  he  had  just  wanted  a  trumpet  which  1  had 
bought  for  him,  he  offered  it  with  a  royal  air  to  the 
old  man,  saying  to  him: 


250  MEMOIRS  OF 

"Here,  take  this!" 

"Will  you  let  me  keep  it?"  said  the  poor  man  to 
me. 

What  is  there  on  the  earth  that  can  be  put  in  the 
balance  with  the  joys  of  such  a  moment? 

"I  also,  madame,  I  have  had  children,"  said  the 
old  man  to  me,  taking  what  I  gave  him  without 
paying  attention  to  it. 

When  I  think  that  it  will  be  necessary  to  put  in 
a  college  a  child  like  Armand,  that  I  have  only 
three  years  and  a  half  more  to  keep  him,  I  shudder. 
The  Public  Instruction  will  reap  the  flowers  of  this 
childhood  blessed  every  hour,  will  denaturalize 
these  graces  and  these  adorable  franknesses! 
They  will  cut  off  these  pretty  curls  which  I  have  so 
tended,  washed  and  kissed!  What  will  they  do 
with  the  soul  of  Armand  ? 

And  you,  what  has  become  of  you  ?  You  have 
said  nothing  to  me  of  your  life.  Do  you  still  love 
Felipe?  for  I  am  not  anxious  about  the  Saracen. 
Adieu;  Nais  has  just  fallen  down,  and  if  I  wished 
to  continue,  this  letter  would  make  a  volume. 


XLVI 

MADAME     DE    MACUMER    TO    THE     COMTESSE     DE 
L'ESTORADE 

1829. 

The   newspapers  will   have   informed   you,   my 
good  and  tender  Renee,  of  the  horrible  misfortune 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  25 1 

which  has  overwhelmed  me;  I  was  not  able  to  write 
you  a  single  word,  I  remained  at  his  bedside  for 
twenty  days  and  nights,  I  received  his  last  sigh,  1 
closed  his  eyes,  I  watched  over  him  piously  with 
the  priests  and  I  repeated  the  prayers  for  the  dead. 
I  inflicted  upon  myself  the  chastisement  of  these 
frightful  sorrows,  and,  nevertheless,  in  seeing  on 
his  serene  lips  the  smile  which  he  gave  me  before 
dying,  1  have  not  been  able  to  believe  that  my  love 
killed  him!  Finally,  heisnomore,  and  I,  lam!  To 
you  who  have  known  us  both  so  well,  what  can  I 
say  more?  everything  is  in  those  two  phrases.  Oh! 
if  someone  could  say  to  me  that  he  could  be  recalled 
to  life,  I  would  give  my  share  of  Heaven  to  hear 
this  promise,  for  that  would  be  to  see  him  again! — 
And  to  hold  him  again,  were  it  only  for  two  seconds, 
that  would  be  to  breathe  with  the  dagger  no  longer 
in  the  heart!  Will  you  not  come  to  me  very  soon 
and  tell  me  this?  do  you  not  love  me  enough  to 
deceive  me  ? — But  no !  you  said  to  me  in  the  begin- 
ning that  1  would  wound  him  deeply — .  Is  it  true? 
No,  I  did  not  deserve  his  love,  you  were  right,  I 
stole  it.  Happiness,  I  strangled  it  in  my  frantic 
embraces!  Oh!  as  I  am  writing  to  you,  I  am  no 
longer  mad,  but  I  feel  that  I  am  alone!  Lord,  what 
is  there  more  in  Thy  hell  than  this  word. 

When  they  raised  me  up,  I  took  to  the  same  bed, 
hoping  to  die,  for  there  was  only  one  door  between 
us,  I  believed  myself  still  strong  enough  to  open  it! 
But  alas!  I  was  too  young,  and  after  a  convales- 
cence of  forty  days,  during  which  they  nursed  me 


252  MEMOIRS  OF 

with  a  frightful  art  with  all  the  inventions  of  a  mel- 
ancholy science,  I  found  myself  in  the  country, 
seated  at  my  window  in  the  midst  of  the  beautiful 
flowers  which  he  had  had  taken  care  of  for  me,  en- 
joying that  magnificent  view  over  which  his  looks 
had  so  many  times  wandered,  which  he  congratu- 
lated himself  so  much  for  having  discovered,  since 
it  pleased  me.  Ah!  dear,  when  the  heart  is  dead 
the  sorrow  of  changing  places  is  indescribable.  The 
damp  earth  of  my  garden  made  me  shiver,  the  earth 
is  like  a  great  tomb  and  I  thought  I  was  walking  on 
him !  The  first  time  I  went  out,  I  was  afraid  and 
remained  motionless.  It  is  indeed  mournful  to  see 
his  flowers  without  him. 

My  mother  and  my  father  are  in  Spain,  you  know 
my  brothers,  and  you,  you  are  compelled  to  remain 
in  the  country;  but  do  not  be  uneasy — two  angels 
have  flown  to  me.  The  Duke  and  the  Duchess  of 
Soria,  those  two  charming  beings,  hastened  to  their 
brother.  The  last  night  saw  our  three  sorrows  calm 
and  silent  around  that  bed  on  which  was  dying  one 
of  those  men  truly  noble  and  truly  grand,  who  are 
so  rare,  and  who  are  then  superior  to  us  in  all 
things.  The  patience  of  my  Felipe  was  divine. 
The  sight  of  his  brother  and  of  Marie  for  a  moment 
refreshed  his  soul  and  soothed  his  pain. 

"Dear,"  said  he  tome  with  the  simplicity  which 
he  put  in  everything,  "I  was  about  to  die  forgetting 
to  give  to  Fernand  the  barony  of  Macumer,  it  will 
be  necessary  to  alter  my  will.  My  brother  will 
forgive  me,  he  who  knows  what  it  is  to  love!" 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  253 

I  owe  my  life  to  the  cares  of  my  brother-in-law 
and  of  his  wife;  they  wish  to  take  me  with  them  to 
Spain! 

Ah  Renee,  this  disaster,  to  you  only  can  I  tell 
the  extent  of  it  The  consciousness  of  my  faults 
overwhelms  me,  and  it  is  a  bitter  consolation  to  con- 
fide them  to  you,  poor  unheeded  Cassandra.  I 
killed  him  by  my  unreasonable  demands,  by  my 
unfounded  jealousies,  by  my  continual  bickerings. 
My  love  was  all  the  more  terrible  that  we  had  the 
same  exquisite  sensitiveness,  we  spoke  the  same 
language,  he  comprehended  everything  admirably, 
and  often  my  jesting,  without  my  suspecting  it, 
went  to  the  bottom  of  his  heart  You  would  not 
know  how  to  imagine  to  what  an  extent  this  dear 
slave  carried  his  obedience:  I  said  to  him  some- 
times to  go  away  and  to  leave  me  alone,  he  went 
off  without  discussing  a  whim  from  which  perhaps 
he  suffered.  Up  to  his  last  breath  he  blessed  me, 
repeating  to  me  that  one  morning  only  alone  with 
me,  was  worth  more  to  him  than  a  long  life  with 
another  loved  woman,  were  it  Marie  Heredia.  I 
am  weeping  as  I  write  these  words  to  you. 

Now,  I  rise  at  noon,  I  go  to  bed  at  seven  o'clock 
in  the  evening,  I  sit  at  my  meals  a  ridiculous  length 
of  time,  I  walk  slowly,  I  remain  an  hour  before  a 
plant,  I  look  at  the  leaves,  I  occupy  myself  with 
method  and  gravity  concerning  nothings,  I  adore 
shadows,  the  silence  and  the  night;  in  short,  I 
struggle  with  the  hours  and  add  them  with  a  sombre 
pleasure  to  the  past  The  peaceful  ness  of  my  park 


254  MEMOIRS  OF 

is  the  only  company  which  I  wish;  I  find  in  every- 
thing in  it  the  sublime  images  of  my  extinguished 
happiness,  invisible  for  all,  eloquent  and  living  for 
me. 

My  sister-in-law  threw  herself  into  my  arms  one 
morning  when  I  said  to  her: 

"You  are  insupportable  to  me!     The  Spaniards 
have  greater  souls  than  we  have!" 

Ah !  Renee,  if  I  am  not  dead,  it  is  that  God  doubt- 
less proportions  the  sentiment  of  sorrow  to  the 
strength  of  the  afflicted.  It  is  only  we  women  who 
should  know  the  extent  of  our  losses  when  we  lose 
a  love  without  any  hypocrisy,  a  love  which  has 
been  chosen,  a  durable  passion,  the  pleasures  of 
which  satisfy  at  once  nature  and  the  soul.  When 
shall  we  meet  a  man  so  full  of  fine  qualities  that 
we  can  love  him  without  lowering  ourselves?  To 
meet  him  is  the  greatest  happiness  which  can  come 
to  us,  and  we  could  not  hope  to  meet  him  twice. 
Men  truly  strong  and  great,  in  whom  virtue  is  hid- 
den under  a  poetical  feeling,  whose  souls  possess 
a  lofty  charm,  made  to  be  adored,  guard  yourselves 
from  loving,  you  will  cause  the  unhappiness  of  the 
woman  and  your  own!  This  is  what  1  cry  in  the 
alleys  of  my  forest!  And  no  child  of  his!  That 
inexhaustible  love  which  smiled  upon  me  always, 
which  had  only  flowers  and  joys  to  pour  upon  me, 
that  love  was  sterile.  lam  an  accursed  creature! 
Love  pure  and  violent  as  it  is  when  it  is  absolute, 
can  it  then  be  as  unfruitful  as  aversion,  in  the  same 
way  that  the  extreme  heat  of  the  sand  of  the  desert 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  255 

and  the  extreme  cold  of  the  pole  destroy  all  life? 
Is  it  necessary  to  marry  a  Louis  de  1'Estorade  in 
order  to  have  a  family?  Can  God  be  jealous  of 
love?  I  am  raving. 

I  think  that  you  are  the  only  person  whom  I  can 
suffer  near  me;  come  then,  you  alone  should  be 
with  a  Louise  in  mourning.  What  a  horrible  day 
was  that  on  which  I  put  on  the  widow's  bonnet! 
When  I  saw  myself  in  black,  I  fell  in  a  chair  and  I 
wept  till  the  night,  and  I  am  still  weeping  in  speak- 
ing to  you  of  that  terrible  moment.  Farewell,  writ- 
ing to  you  fatigues  me;  I  have  too  much  of  my 
thoughts,  I  do  not  longer  wish  to  express  them. 
Bring  your  chidren,  you  can  nurse  the  last  one  here, 
I  shall  no  longer  be  jealous — ,  he  is  here  no  longer, 
and  it  will  give  me  pleasure  to  see  my  godson;  for 
Felipe  wished  for  a  child  who  should  resemble  this 
little  Armand.  Do  come,  and  take  your  share  in 
my  sorrows ! 

XLVII 

REN£E  TO  LOUISE 

1829. 

My  dearest,  when  you  hold  this  letter  in  your 
hands  I  shall  not  be  far  away,  for  I  set  out  a  few 
moments  after  having  sent  it  to  you.  We  shall  be 
alone.  Louis  is  obliged  to  remain  in  Provence  be- 
cause of  the  elections  which  are  about  to  take  place ; 
he  wishes  to  be  re-elected,  and  there  are  already 
intrigues  against  him,  set  on  foot  by  the  Liberals. 


256  MEMOIRS  OF 

I  am  not  coming  to  console  you,  I  am  only  bring- 
ing you  my  heart  to  keep  company  with  yours  and 
to  aid  you  to  live.  I  am  coming  to  command  you 
to  weep :  it  is  necessary  to  purchase  thus  the  hap- 
piness of  rejoining  him  some  day,  for  he  is  only 
journeying  toward  God ;  you  will  not  take  one  step 
the  more  which  will  not  conduct  you  toward  him. 
Each  duty  accomplished  will  break  one  link  of  the 
chain  which  separates  you.  Come,  my  Louise,  you 
will  raise  yourself  again  in  my  arms  and  you  will 
go  to  him  pure,  noble,  forgiven  for  your  involuntary 
faults,  and  accompanied  by  the  works  which  you 
will  do  here  below  in  his  name. 

I  trace  these  lines  hastily  in  the  midst  of  my 
preparations,  of  my  children,  and  of  Armand  who 
cries  to  me:  "Godmother!  Godmother!  let  us  go  to 
see  her!"  in  a  way  to  render  me  jealous,  he  is 
almost  your  son! 


LOUISE  AND  HER  ARCHITECT 


When,  day  before  yesterday,  I  ivent  to  see  if 
my  last  fancies  had  been  comprehended,  I  felt  the 
tears  come  into  my  eyes,  and  I  endorsed  on  the 
architect's  statement,  to  his  very  great  surprise, 
To  be  paid. 

"  Your  man  of  business  will  not  pay  this,  Ma- 
dame," he  said  to  me,  "  it  is  a  question  of  three 
hundred  thousand  francs" 

I  added,  Without  dispute!  like  a  true  Chaulieu 
of  the  seventeenth  century. 


PART  SECOND 


XLVIII 

THE  BARONNE    DE    MACUMER    TO    THE    COMTESSE 
DE  L'ESTORADE 

October  15,  1833. 

Well,  yes,  Renee,  it  is  so,  they  have  told  you 
truly.  I  have  sold  my  hotel,  I  have  sold  Chante- 
pleurs  and  the  farms  of  Seine-et-Marne ;  but  that  I 
am  crazy  and  ruined,  that  is  an  exaggeration.  Let 
us  count  up!  Everything  included,  there  remained 
to  me  of  the  fortune  of  my  poor  Macumer  about 
twelve  hundred  thousand  francs.  I  am  going  to 
render  you  a  faithful  account,  like  a  well  brought 
up  sister.  I  put  a  million  in  the  three  per  cents, 
when  they  were  at  fifty  francs,  and  I  thus  secured 
myself  sixty  thousand  francs  of  income  in  the  place 
of  thirty  which  I  had  in  lands.  To  go  to  spend  six 
months  of  the  year  in  the  provinces,  to  draw  up 
leases  there,  to  listen  there  to  the  complaints  of  the 
farmers,  who  pay  when  they  want  to,  to  bore  one's 
self  there  like  a  hunter  in  rainy  weather,  to  have 
produce  to  sell  and  to  dispose  of  it  at  a  loss;  to  live 
in  Paris  in  a  h6tel  which  represents  ten  thousand 
17  (257) 


258  MEMOIRS  OF 

francs  income,  to  place  funds  in  the  hands  of  the 
notaries,  to  wait  for  the  interest,  to  be  obliged  to 
pursue  people  to  get  your  repayments,  to  study  the 
legislation  on  mortgages;  in  short,  to  have  affairs  in 
Nivernais,  in  Seine-et-Marne,  in  Paris,  what  a  bur- 
den, what  wearinesses,  what  erroneous  accounts 
and  what  losses  for  a  widow  of  twenty-seven !  Now, 
my  fortune  is  mortgaged  on  the  budget.  Instead  of 
paying  contributions  to  the  State,  I  receive  from  it, 
myself,  without  deductions,  thirty  thousand  francs 
every  six  months,  at  the  Treasury,  from  a  pretty 
little  employe  who  gives  me  thirty  notes  of  a  thou- 
sand francs  each  and  who  smiles  on  seeing  me.  If 
France  should  go  into  bankruptcy?  you  will  say  to 
me.  In  the  first  place, 

"  I  am  not  able  to  foresee  misfortune  so  distant." 

But  France  would  then  take  away  from  me  at  the 
most  the  half  of  my  revenue;  I  would  still  be  as 
rich  as  I  was  before  my  investment;  then,  between 
now  and  the  catastrophe,  I  would  have  received  the 
double  of  my  former  revenue.  As  the  catastrophe 
only  happens  from  century  to  century,  one  has  the 
time  necessary  to  supply  a  capital  by  economizing. 
Finally,  the  Comte  de  1'Estorade,  is  he  not  a  peer 
of  the  semi-republican  France  of  July?  one  of 
the  supporters  of  the  crown  offered  by  the  people  to 
the  King  of  the  French?  Should  I  have  any  fears 
when  I  have  for  friend  a  president  of  the  chamber 
of  the  Cour  des  Comptes,  a  great  financier  ?  Would 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  259 

you  dare  to  say  that  I  was  crazy?  1  calculate 
almost  as  well  as  your  citizen  king.  Do  you  know 
what  it  is  that  can  give  this  algebraic  sagacity  to  a 
woman?  Love!  Alas!  the  moment  has  come  to 
explain  to  you  the  mysteries  of  my  conduct,  the 
reasons  for  which  would  escape  your  perspicacity, 
your  tender  curiosity  and  your  shrewdness.  I  am 
to  be  married  secretly  in  a  village  near  Paris.  I 
love,  I  am  loved.  As.  much  as  a  woman  can  love 
who  knows  well  what  love  is,  do  I  love.  I  am 
loved  as  much  as  a  man  should  love  the  woman  by 
whom  he  is  adored.  Forgive  me,  Renee,  for  having 
kept  this  secret  from  you,  from  all  the  world.  If 
your  Louise  should  deceive  all  eyes,  should  baffle 
all  curiosities,  admit  that  my  passion  for  my  poor 
Macumer  rendered  this  deceit  necessary.  L'Esto- 
rade  and  you,  you  would  have  assassinated  me  with 
doubts,  deafened  me  with  remonstrances.  Circum- 
stances, moreover,  would  have  come  to  your  aid. 
You  alone  know  to  what  an  extent  I  am  jealous,  and 
you  would  have  uselessly  tormented  me.  That 
which  you  will  call  my  folly,  my  Renee,  I  wish  to 
carry  it  out  myself  in  my  head,  in  my  heart,  like 
the  young  girl  who  deceives  the  watchfulness  of 
her  parents.  My  lover  has  for  his  whole  fortune 
thirty  thousand  francs  of  debts  which  I  have  paid. 
What  a  subject  on  which  to  make  observations! 
You  would  have  wished  to  prove  to  me  that  Gaston 
is  an  intriguer  and  your  husband  would  have  set 
spies  on  this  child.  I  prefer  to  study  him  myself. 
It  is  now  twenty-two  months  that  he  has  been 


260  MEMOIRS  OF 

courting  me;  I  am  twenty-seven  years  old,  he  is 
twenty-three.  Between  a  woman  and  a  man,  this 
difference  in  the  age  is  enormous.  Another  source 
of  misfortune!  Finally  he  is  a  poet,  and  lives  by 
his  work;  that  is  enough  to  say  to  you  that  he  lives 
on  excessively  little.  This  dear  lizard  of  a  poet  is 
more  often  in  the  sun  employed  in  building  castles 
in  Spain  than  in  the  shade  of  his  den  working  on 
poems.  Now,  the  writers,  the  artists,  those  who 
exist  only  for  thoughts,  are  generally  often  enough 
taxed  with  inconstancy  by  the  positive  people. 
They  espouse  and  conceive  so  many  caprices  that  it 
is  natural  to  believe  that  the  head  reacts  on  the 
heart.  Notwithstanding  the  debts  paid,  notwith- 
standing the  difference  of  ages,  notwithstanding  the 
poesy,  after  nine  months  of  noble  defense  and  with- 
out having  permitted  him  to  kiss  my  hand,  after  the 
most  chaste  and  the  most  delicious  love  making,  in 
a  few  days,  I  shall  not  deliver  myself,  as,  eight 
years  ago,  inexperienced,  ignorant  and  curious;  I 
give  myself,  and  am  waited  for  with  a  so  great  sub- 
mission that  I  could  postpone  my  marriage  for  a 
year;  but  there  is  not  the  least  servility  in  this, — 
there  is  servitude  and  not  submission.  Never  was 
there  to  be  met  with  a  more  noble  heart,  nor  more 
spirit  in  the  tenderness,  nor  more  soul  in  the  love, 
than  in  my  intended.  Alas!  my  angel,  he  is  not 
wanting  in  relatives  of  some  importance !  You  shall 
know  his  story  in  two  words. 

My  friend  has  no  other  names  than  those  of  Marie 
Gaston.     He  is  the  son,  not  natural,  but  adulterine, 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  26 1 

of  that  beautiful  Lady  Brandon  of  whom  you  have 
heard,  and  whom,  through  vengeance,  Lady  Dudley 
caused  to  die  of  grief;  a  horrible  story  of  which  this 
dear  child  is  ignorant  Marie  Gaston  was  placed 
by  his  brother,  Louis  Gaston,  in  the  College  of 
Tours,  which  he  left  in  1827.  The  brother  went  to 
sea  a  few  days  after  having  placed  him  there,  going 
to  seek  his  fortune,  as  he  was  told  by  an  old  woman 
who  was  his  own  peculiar  providence.  This  brother, 
become  a  sailor,  has  written  to  him  from  time  to 
time  letters  truly  paternal,  and  which  came  from  a 
fine  soul ;  but  he  always  remained  abroad.  In  his 
last  letter  he  announced  to  Marie  Gaston  his  nomi- 
nation to  the  grade  of  captain  of  a  vessel  in  some 
remote  American  Republic,  bidding  him  hope. 
Alas!  for  the  last  three  years,  my  poor  lizard  has 
received  no  more  letters,  and  he  loves  this  brother 
so  much,  that  he  wished  to  take,ship  to  search  for 
him.  Our  great  writer,  Daniel  d'Arthez,  prevented 
this  folly  and  interested  himself  nobly  in  Marie 
Gaston,  to  whom  he  has  often  "given,"  as  the  poet 
says  to  me  in  his  energetic  language,  "a  bone  and  a 
kennel."  In  fact,  you  may  judge  the  distress  of 
this  infant, — he  believed  that  genius  finds  the  most 
rapid  road  to  fortune !  is  not  that  enough  to  make 
you  laugh  for  twenty-four  hours?  From  1828  up  to 
1833  he  then  endeavored  to  make  himself  a  name  in 
letters  and  naturally  he  led  the  most  frightful  life 
of  distresses,  of  hopes,  of  work  and  of  privations 
that  can  be  imagined.  Led  on  by  an  excessive  am- 
bition and  in  spite  of  the  good  counsels  of  D'Arthez, 


262  MEMOIRS  OF 

he  succeeded  only  in  constantly  increasing  the  snow- 
ball of  his  debts.  His  name  had  commenced  to  be 
known  when  I  met  him  in  the  house  of  the  Marquise 
d'Espard.  There,  without  his  being  aware  of  it,  I 
felt  myself  sympathetically  attracted  toward  him  at 
first  sight  How  is  it  that  he  has  not  yet  been 
loved?  how  is  it  that  they  have  left  him  for  me? 
Oh!  he  has  genius  and  wit,  heart  and  pride;  the 
women  are  always  frightened  before  these  complete 
grandeurs.  Did  it  not  require  a  hundred  victories 
to  enable  Josephine  to  perceive  Napoleon  in  the  lit- 
tle Bonaparte,  her  husband  ?  The  innocent  creature 
believes  that  he  knows  how  much  I  love  him !  Poor 
Gaston !  he  has  no  thought  of  it ;  but  to  you  I  am  going 
to  tell  it,  it  is  necessary  that  you  should  know  it,  for 
there  is,  Renee,  something  of  the  last  will  and  tes- 
tament in  this  letter.  Meditate  well  on  my  words. 

In  this  moment,  I  have  the  certainty  of  being 
loved  as  much  as  a  woman  can  be  loved  on  this 
earth,  and  I  have  faith  in  this  adorable  conjugal  life 
to  which  I  bring  a  love  that  I  did  not  know. — Yes, 
I  experience  finally  the  pleasure  of  passion  returned. 
That  which  all  women  ask  to-day  of  love,  marriage 
gives  to  me.  I  feel  in  myself  for  Gaston  the  adora- 
tion which  I  inspired  in  my  poor  Felipe!  I  am  not 
my  own  mistress,  I  tremble  before  this  child  as  the 
Abencerrage  trembled  before  me.  In  short,  I  love 
more  than  I  am  loved;  I  am  afraid  of  everything,  I 
have  the  most  ridiculous  terrors,  I  am  afraid  to  be 
forsaken,  I  tremble  lest  I  should  be  old  and  ugly 
when  Gaston  will  still  be  young  and  handsome,  I 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  263 

tremble  lest  I  should  not  please  him  enough !  How- 
ever, I  think  that  I  possess  the  faculties,  the  devo- 
tion, the  spirit  necessary  not  to  maintain,  but  to 
make  greater  this  love  far  from  the  world  and  in 
solitude.  If  1  should  fail,  if  the  magnificent  poem  of 
this  secret  love  should  have  an  end,  what  do  I  say,  an 
end !  if  Gaston  should  love  me  one  day  less  than  the 
day  before,  if  I  should  perceive  it,  Renee,  know  it,  it 
is  not  with  him,  it  is  with  myself  that  I  shall  have 
to  settle.  This  would  not  be  his  fault,  it  would  be 
mine.  I  know  myself,  I  am  more  lover  than  mother. 
Thus  I  say  it  to  you  in  advance,  I  should  die  even 
though  I  should  have  children.  Before  making  this 
contract  with  myself,  my  Renee,  I  entreat  you  then, 
if  this  misfortune  should  overtake  me,  to  be  as 
a  mother  to  my  children,  I  shall  have  left  them  to 
you.  Your  fanaticism  for  duty,  your  precious  qual- 
ities, your  love  for  children,  your  tenderness  for 
me,  all  that  I  know  of  you  will  render  death  less 
bitter  to  me,  I  dare  not  say  sweet.  This  contract 
taken  with  myself  adds  an  unspeakable  terror  to 
the  solemnity  of  this  marriage:  thus  I  do  not  want 
any  witnesses  who  know  me;  thus  my  marriage 
will  be  celebrated  secretly.  I  can  tremble  at  my 
ease,  I  shall  not  see  in  your  dear  eyes  an  anxiety, 
and  I  alone  shall  know  that  in  signing  a  new  mar- 
riage contract  I  may  have  signed  my  death-warrant. 
I  shall  not  return  again  to  this  compact  made  be- 
tween myself  and  the  self  which  I  am  going  to  be- 
come ;  I  confide  it  to  you  that  you  may  know  the 
extent  of  your  duties.  I  shall  marry  though  with 


264  MEMOIRS  OF 

my  property  separated  from  my  husband's,  and, 
while  knowing  that  I  am  sufficiently  rich  to  enable 
us  to  live  comfortably,  Gaston  is  ignorant  of  the 
amount  of  my  fortune.  In  twenty-four  hours  I  shall 
divide  my  fortune  as  I  please.  As  I  do  not  wish  to 
have  anything  mortifying,  I  have  caused  twelve 
thousand  francs'  income  to  be  put  in  his  name ;  he 
will  find  them  in  his  secretary  the  evening  before 
our  marriage;  and  if  he  does  not  accept  them,  I  will 
suspend  everything.  It  required  the  menace  of  not 
marrying  him  to  obtain  the  right  to  pay  his  debts. 
I  am  tired  with  having  written  you  these  avowals; 
day  after  to-morrow  I  will  tell  you  more,  for  I  am 
obliged  to  go  into  the  country  to-morrow  for  the 
whole  day. 

October  2Oth. 

These  are  the  measures  I  have  taken  to  hide  my 
happiness,  for  I  wished  to  avoid  every  possible  op- 
portunity for  my  jealousy.  I  am  like  that  beauti- 
ful Italian  princess  who  ran  like  a  lioness  to  devour 
her  love  in  some  Swiss  city,  after  having  thrown 
herself  on  her  prey  like  a  lioness.  Thus  I  only 
speak  to  you  of  my  arrangements  in  order  to  ask  of 
you  another  favor,  that  of  never  coming  to  see  us 
unless  I  have  asked  you  myself,  and  of  respecting 
the  solitude  in  which  I  wish  to  live. 

I  purchased,  two  years  ago,  above  the  ponds  of 
Ville-d'Avray,  on  the  road  to  Versailles,  some 
twenty  acres  of  meadows,  a  strip  of  woodland  and  a 
fine  little  fruit  garden.  At  the  end  of  the  meadows, 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  265 

the  ground  has  been  excavated  in  such  a  manner  as 
to  obtain  a  pond  of  about  three  acres  in  extent,  in 
the  midst  of  which  has  been  left  a  prettily  con- 
trived island.  The  two  pretty  wooded  hills  which 
enclose  this  little  valley  distil  ravishing  little 
streams  which  flow  through  my  park,  where  they 
have  been  knowingly  distributed  by  my  architect. 
These  streams  fall  into  the  ponds  of  the  crown, 
glimpses  of  which  may  be  caught  in  the  distance. 
This  little  park,  admirably  well  designed  by  this 
architect,  is,  according  to  the  nature  of  the  ground, 
surrounded  by  hedges,  by  walls,  by  deep  ditches,  so 
that  no  point  of  view  is  lost.  Half-way  up  the  hill, 
flanked  by  the  woods  of  the  Ronce,  in  a  delightful 
situation  and  before  a  meadow  which  slopes  down 
to  the  pond,  I  have  had  constructed  a  chalet,  the 
exterior  of  which  is  in  every  point  similar  to  that 
which  the  travelers  admire  on,the  road  from  Sion 
to  Brigg,  and  which  so  seduced  me  on  my  return 
from  Italy.  In  the  interior,  its  elegance  surpasses 
that  of  the  most  illustrious  chalets.  At  a  hundred 
steps  from  this  rustic  habitation  a  charming  house 
which  constitutes  an  extension  communicates  with 
the  chalet  by  an  underground  passage-way  and  con- 
tains the  kitchen,  the  servants'  rooms,  the  stables, 
and  the  carriage-houses.  Of  all  these  constructions 
in  brick,  the  eye  sees  onjy  a  facade  of  a  graceful 
simplicity  and  surrounded  by  shrubbery.  The 
lodging  of  the  gardeners  constitutes  another  struct- 
ure and  masks  the  entrance  to  the  orchards  and  the 
kitchen  gardens. 


266  MEMOIRS  OF 

The  gate  of  this  property,  hidden  in  the  wall 
which  encloses  it  on  the  side  of  the  woods,  is  almost 
unfmdable.  The  trees  and  shrubs  planted,  which 
are  already  large,  will  completely  conceal  the  houses 
in  two  or  three  years.  The  pedestrian  will  only 
guess  at  our  habitation  in  seeing  the  smoke  of  the 
chimneys  from  the  tops  of  the  hills,  or  in  the  winter 
when  the  leaves  have  fallen. 

My  chalet  is  constructed  in  the  middle  of  a  land- 
scape copied  from  that  which  is  called  the  garden  of 
the  king  at  Versailles,  but  it  has  a  view  of  my  pond 
and  my  island.  On  all  sides,  the  hills  show  their 
masses  of  foliage,  their  fine  trees  so  well  cared  for 
by  your  new  civil  list.  My  gardeners  have  orders 
to  cultivate  around  me  only  odoriferous  flowers  and 
those  by  thousands,  so  that  this  corner  of  the  earth 
is  a  perfumed  emerald.  The  chalet,  ornamented 
with  a  creeping  vine  which  runs  over  the  roof,  is 
literally  enclosed  in  creeping  plants,  in  hop  vines, 
clematis,  jessamine,  azalea,  cobaea.  Whoever  can 
distinguish  our  windows  may  boast  that  he  has  good 
eyesight ! 

This  chalet,  my  dear,  is  a  good  and  complete 
house,  with  its  heater  and  all  the  furnishings  which 
modern  architecture  has  introduced,  which  con- 
structs palaces  in  a  hundred  feet  square.  It  con- 
tains an  apartment  for  Gaston  and  an  apartment  for 
myself.  The  ground-floor  is  taken  for  an  antecham- 
ber, a  parlor  and  a  dining-room.  Above  us  are 
three  chambers,  for  the  nursery.  I  have  five  fine 
horses,  a  little  light  coupe  and  a  milord  for  two 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  267 

horses;  for  we  are  within  forty  minutes  of  Paris: 
when  it  shall  please  us  to  go  to  the  opera,  to  see  a 
new  play,  we  can  set  out  after  dinner  and  return  in 
the  evening  to  our  nest  The  road  is  very  good 
and  passes  under  the  shadows  of  our  enclosing 
hedge.  My  people,  my  cook,  my  coachman,  the 
groom,  the  gardeners,  my  femme  de  chambre,  are 
perfectly  honest  persons  whom  I  have  been  seeking 
for  these  last  six  months  and  who  will  all  be  under 
the  orders  of  my  old  Philippe.  Although  certain  of 
their  attachment  and  of  their  discretion,  I  retain 
them  by  their  interests ;  they  will  have  small  wages, 
but  which  will  be  increased  each  year  by  the  amount 
which  we  give  them  on  New  Year's  day.  All  of 
them  know  that  the  slightest  fault,  a  suspicion  of 
their  discretion,  may  cause  them  to  lose  immense 
advantages.  Lovers  never  worry  their  servants, 
they  are  indulgent  by  character, — thus  I  may  count 
upon  our  people. 

Everything  that  there  is  precious,  pretty  and  ele- 
gant in  my  house  at  the  Rue  du  Bac  is  found  in  the 
chalet  The  Rembrandt  is  hung  on  the  stairway 
neither  more  nor  less  than  if  it  were  a  daub;  the 
Hobbema  is  in  his  study,  opposite  the  Rubens;  the 
Titian,  which  my  sister-in-law,  Marie,  sent  me  from 
Madrid,  ornaments  the  boudoir;  the  handsome  fur- 
niture found  by  Felipe  is  well  placed  in  the  parlor, 
which  the  architect  has  delightfully  decorated. 
Everything  in  the  chalet  is  of  an  admirable  simpli- 
city, of  that  simplicity  which  costs  a  hundred  thou- 
sand francs.  Constructed  over  cellars  in  porous 


268  MEMOIRS  OF 

stone  laid  in  cement,  our  ground-floor,  scarcely  vis- 
ible under  the  flowers  and  the  shrubbery,  enjoys  an 
adorable  freshness  without  the  least  dampness. 
Finally,  a  fleet  of  white  swans  sails  on  the  pond. 

Oh,  Renee,  there  reigns  in  this  valley  a  silence 
which  would  rejoice  the  dead!  One  is  awakened 
by  the  song  of  the  birds  or  by  the  murmuring  of  the 
breeze  in  the  poplars.  A  little  stream  found  by  the 
architect  in  digging  the  foundations  of  the  wall 
flows  down  the  hill  on  the  side  of  the  woods,  over 
silvery  sand  toward  the  pond  between  two  banks  of 
watercress :  I  do  not  know  that  any  sum  of  money 
would  pay  for  it.  Will  Gaston  not  conceive  a  hatred 
for  this  happiness  too  complete  ?  Everything  is  so 
beautiful  that  I  shudder ;  the  worms  take  up  their 
lodging  in  the  fine  fruit,  the  insects  attack  the  mag- 
nificent flowers.  Is  it  not  always  the  pride  of  the 
forest  which  is  ravaged  by  that  horrible  brown 
larva,  the  voracity  of  which  resembles  that  of  death  ? 
I  know  already  that  an  invisible  and  jealous  power 
attacks  the  complete  felicities.  It  is  long  ago  that 
you  wrote  me  so,  moreover,  and  you  proved  to  be  a 
prophet. 

When,  day  before  yesterday,  I  went  to  see  if 
my  last  fancies  had  been  comprehended,  I  felt  the 
tears  come  into  my  eyes,  and  I  endorsed  on  the 
architect's  statement,  to  his  very  great  surprise, 
To  be  paid. 

"Your  man  of  business  will  not  pay  this,  Ma- 
dame," he  said  to  me,  "it  is  a  question  of  three 
hundred  thousand  francs." 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  269 

I  added,  Without  dispute!  like  a  true  Chaulieu  of 
the  seventeenth  century. 

"But,  monsieur,"  I  said  to  him,  "I  add  a  condition 
to  my  gratitude, — do  not  speak  of  these  buildings 
and  of  the  park  to  any  one.  No  one  is  to  know  the 
name  of  the  proprietor,  promise  me  on  your  honor  to 
observe  this  clause  of  my  payment" 

Do  you  now  comprehend  the  reason  of  my  sudden 
journeyings,  of  the  secret  comings  and  goings?  Do 
you  see  where  are  to  be  found  those  beautiful  things 
that  were  thought  to  be  sold?  Do  you  seize  the 
great  reason  for  the  change  of  my  fortune?  My 
dear,  love  is  a  great  affair,  and  who  wishes  to  love 
well  should  not  have  any  other.  Money  will  no 
longer  be  a  care  for  me;  I  have  rendered  life  easy, 
and  I  have  been  the  mistress  of  the  house  so  thor- 
oughly once  that  I  shall  not  have  to  attend  to  it 
again  except  for  ten  minutes  each  morning  with  my 
old  major-domo  Philippe.  I  have  carefully  observed 
life  and  its  dangerous  windings;  death  one  day  gave 
me  some  cruel  instructions,  and  I  wish  to  profit  by 
them.  My  only  occupation  will  be  to  please  him 
and  to  love  him,  to  throw  some  variety  into  what 
would  appear  so  monotonous  to  common  beings. 

Gaston  knows  nothing  as  yet.  At  my  request, 
he  has,  like  myself,  taken  a  lodging  in  Ville- 
d'Avray;  we  depart  to-morrow  for  the  chalet  Our 
life  there  will  be  the  least  costly;  but  if  I  should 
tell  you  what  sum  I  propose  to  spend  on  my  toilet, 
you  would  say  and  with  reason:  "she  is  crazy!" 
I  wish  to  adorn  myself  for  him  every  day,  as  women 


270  MEMOIRS  OF 

are  in  the  habit  of  adorning  themselves  for  the  world. 
My  toilet  for  the  country  for  the  whole  year  will 
cost  twenty-four  thousand  francs,  and  that  for  the 
day  is  not  the  dearest.  He  can  wear  a  blouse,  if  he 
wants  to !  Do  not  think  that  I  wish  to  make  of  this 
life  a  duel  and  exhaust  myself  in  combinations  to 
entertain  love:  I  wish  to  have  no  reproach  to  make 
to  myself,  that  is  all.  I  have  thirteen  years  in 
which  to  be  a  pretty  woman,  I  wish  to  be  loved  the 
last  day  of  the  thirteenth  year  even  more  than  I 
shall  be  the  morning  after  my  mysterious  wedding. 
This  time,  I  shall  be  always  humble,  always  grate- 
ful, without  any  caustic  speech;  and  I  shall  make 
myself  a  servant,  since  commanding  ruined  me  the 
first  time.  Oh!  Renee,  if,  like  myself,  Gaston  has 
comprehended  the  infinitude  of  love,  I  am  certain  of 
living  always  happy.  Nature  is  very  beautiful 
around  the  chalet,  the  forests  are  ravishing.  At 
each  step,  the  freshest  landscapes,  the  points  of 
wooded  view  give  pleasure  to  the  soul  by  calling 
up  charming  ideas.  These  forests  are  full  of  love. 
Provided  that  I  have  done  something  else  than 
prepare  for  myself  a  magnificent  funeral  pile !  Day 
after  to-morrow  I  shall  be  Madame  Gaston.  My 
God,  I  ask  myself  if  it  is  really  Christian  to  love  a 
man  so  much. 

"Well,  it  is  legal,"  said  to  me  my  man  of  affairs, 
who  is  one  of  my  witnesses,  and  who,  finally  seeing 
the  object  of  the  liquidation  of  my  fortune,  ex- 
claimed: "I  am  losing  a  client  by  it!" 

Thou,  my  beautiful  lamb,  I  dare  no  longer  say 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  271 

beloved,  thou  mayst  say:  "I  am  losing  a  sister  by 
it." 

My  angel,  address  henceforth  Madame  Gaston, 
Poste  Restante,  Versailles.  Our  letters  will  be 
collected  there  every  day.  I  do  not  wish  that  we 
should  be  known  in  the  country  round.  All  our 
provisions  will  be  brought  from  Paris.  Thus  I  hope 
to  be  able  to  live  mysteriously.  Within  the  last 
year  while  this  retreat  was  in  preparation,  no  one 
was  seen  there,  and  the  property  was  acquired  dur- 
ing the  movements  which  followed  the  Revolution 
of  July.  The  only  being  who  showed  himself  in 
the  country  was  my  architect, — no  one  was  known 
but  he,  and  he  will  return  no  more.  Adieu.  In 
writing  this  word,  I  feel  in  my  heart  as  much  pain 
as  pleasure:  is  this  not  to  regret  you  as  completely 
as  I  love  Gaston  ? 

XLIX 
MARIE  GASTON  TO  DANIEL  D'ARTHEZ 

October,  1833. 

My  dear  Daniel,  I  have  need  of  two  witnesses  for 
my  marriage;  I  ask  you  to  come  to  my  house  to- 
morrow evening  bringing  with  you  our  friend,  the 
good  and  grand  Joseph  Bridau.  It  is  the  intention 
of  the  lady  who  will  be  my  wife  to  live  far  from  the 
world  and  perfectly  unknown, — she  has  foreseen  the 
very  dearest  of  my  wishes.  You  have  known  noth- 
ing of  my  love  affairs,  you  who  have  softened  for  me 
the  miseries  of  poverty;  but,  you  will  understand 


272  MEMOIRS  OF 

it,  this  absolute  secret  was  a  necessity.  This  is 
the  reason  that,  for  the  last  year,  we  have  seen 
so  little  of  each  other.  The  day  after  my  marriage, 
we  shall  be  separated  for  a  longtime.  Daniel,  you 
have  the  soul  that  can  comprehend  me:  friendship 
will  subsist  without  the  friend.  Perhaps  I  shall 
sometimes  have  need  of  you,  but  I  shall  not  see  you, 
in  my  house  at  least.  She  has  again  anticipated 
our  wishes  in  this.  She  has  made  for  me  a  sacri- 
fice of  her  friendship  for  a  friend  of  her  childhood  who 
is  for  her  a  true  sister;  I  should  immolate  my  friend 
for  her.  That  which  I  say  to  you  here  will  doubt- 
less enable  you  to  divine,  not  a  passion,  but  a  love 
entire,  complete,  divine,  founded  on  an  intimate 
knowledge  between  the  two  beings  who  thus  unite 
themselves.  My  happiness  is  pure,  infinite;  but  as 
there  is  a  secret  law  which  forbids  us  to  have  an 
unmixed  happiness,  at  the  bottom  of  my  soul,  and 
buried  in  the  last  fold,  I  hide  a  thought  by  which  I 
alone  am  affected,  and  of  which  she  is  ignorant. 
You  have  too  often  aided  my  constant  poverty  to  be 
ignorant  of  the  horrible  situation  in  which  I  was. 
Whence  did  I  draw  the  courage  to  live  when  hope 
extinguished  herself  so  often?  In  your  past,  my 
friend,  in  whom  I  found  so  many  consolations  and 
delicate  succors.  Finally,  dear  friend,  my  crushing 
debts,  she  has  paid  them.  She  is  rich,  and  I  have 
nothing.  How  many  times  have  I  not  said  in  my 
accessions  of  idleness:  "Ah!  if  some  rich  woman 
would  only  take  a  fancy  to  me !"  Well,  in  presence 
of  the  actual  fact,  the  jests  of  careless  youth,  the 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  273 

deliberate  choice  of  the  unscrupulous  unhappy, 
everything  has  disappeared.  I  am  humiliated, 
despite  the  most  ingenious  tenderness.  I  am 
humiliated,  despite  the  certainty  thus  acquired  of 
the  nobleness  of  her  soul.  I  am  humiliated,  even 
while  knowing  that  my  humiliation  is  a  proof  of  my 
love.  In  short,  she  has  seen  that  I  should  not  recoil 
before  this  abasement.  There  is  a  point  where  far 
from  being  the  protector,  I  am  the  protected.  This 
sorrow  I  confide  to  you.  Outside  of  this  point,  my 
dear  Daniel,  the  least  things  fulfill  my  dreams.  I 
have  found  the  beautiful  without  spot,  the  good 
without  defect.  In  short,  as  is  said,  the  bride  is 
too  beautiful, — she  has  spirit  in  her  tenderness,  she 
has  that  charm  and  that  grace  which  import  variety 
into  love,  she  is  educated  and  understands  every- 
thing; she  is  pretty,  blonde,  slender,  and  slightly 
plump,  as  if  Raphael  and  Rubens  had  come  to  an 
understanding  between  them  to  compose  a  woman ! 
I  do  not  know  if  it  would  ever  have  been  possible 
for  me  to  have  loved  a  brunette  as  much  as  a 
blonde, — it  has  always  seemed  to  me  that  the  bru- 
nette was  a  spoiled  boy.  She  is  a  widow,  she  never 
had  any  children,  she  is  twenty-seven  years  old. 
Although  lively,  alert  and  indefatigable  she  is  yet 
so  constituted  as  to  take  pleasure  in  the  meditations 
of  melancholy.  These  marvelous  gifts  do  not  ex- 
clude in  her  either  dignity  or  nobility:  her  charac- 
ter is  imposing.  Although  she  belongs  to  one  of 
the  old  families  the  most  tainted  with  pride  of  birth, 
she  loves  me  enough  to  pass  over  the  misfortunes 
18 


274  MEMOIRS  OF 

of  my  origin.  Our  secret  love  has  lasted  for  a  long 
time;  we  have  proved  each  other;  we  are  equally 
jealous:  our  thoughts  may  well  be  said  to  be  two 
claps  of  the  same  thunder.  Both  of  us  love  for  the 
first  time,  and  this  delicious  springtime  has  enclosed 
in  its  joys  all  those  scenes  which  imagination  has 
decorated  with  its  most  smiling,  its  sweetest,  its 
most  profound  conceptions.  Sentiment  has  displayed 
lavishly  for  us  all  its  flowers.  Every  one  of  these 
days  has  been  full,  and  when  we  separated,  we  wrote 
to  each  other  poems.  It  has  never  occurred  to  me  to 
tarnish  this  brilliant  season  by  a  desire,  although  my 
soul  was  ceaselessly  troubled  by  it.  She  is  a  widow 
and  free,  she  comprehended  marvelously  all  the  flat- 
teries of  this  constant  restraint;  she  has  often  been 
touched  by  it  to  the  point  of  tears.  You  will  have  a 
glimpse  then,  my  dear  Daniel,  of  a  creature  truly 
superior.  There  has  not  even  passed  between  us  the 
first  kiss  of  love,  we  were  afraid  of  each  other. 

"We  have,"  she  said  to  me,  "each  one  a  misfor- 
tune with  which  to  reproach  ourselves." 

"I  do  not  see  yours." 

"My  marriage,"  she  replied. 

You  who  are  a  great  man  and  who  love  one  of  the 
most  extraordinary  women  of  this  aristocracy  in 
which  I  have  found  my  Armande,  this  word  alone 
will  suffice  to  enable  you  to  understand  this  soul 
and  how  great  will  be  the  happiness  of 

Your  friend, 

MARIE  GASTON. 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  275 


MADAME  DE  L'ESTORADE  TO  MADAME  DE  MACUMER 

What,  Louise,  after  all  the  close  sorrows  which 
came  to  you  from  a  partaken  passion,  in  the  very 
bosom  of  marriage,  you  are  going  to  live  with  a 
husband  in  solitude?  After  having  killed  one  while 
living  in  the  world,  you  wish  to  go  into  retreat  to 
devour  another?  What  griefs  are  you  preparing  for 
yourself !  But,  from  the  manner  in  which  you  have 
gone  into  it,  I  see  that  it  is  quite  irrevocable.  A 
man  who  has  been  able  to  overcome  your  aversion 
to  a  second  marriage  must  possess  an  angelic  spirit, 
a  divine  heart;  it  is  necessary  then  to  leave  you  to 
your  illusions;  but  have  you  then  forgotten  what 
you  have  said  of  men's  youthful  days,  who  have 
all  of  them  known  ignoble  localities,  and  whose 
candor  has  been  lost  in  the  most  horrible  public 
places  on  the  road  ?  Who  has  changed  ?  you  or  they  ? 
You  are  very  happy  to  be  able  to  believe  in  happi- 
ness :  I  have  not  the  strength  to  blame  you,  although 
the  instinct  of  tenderness  urges  me  to  turn  you  from 
this  marriage.  Yes,  a  hundred  times  yes,  nature 
and  society  combine  to  destroy  the  existence  of  en- 
tire felicities,  because  they  run  counter  to  nature 
and  to  society,  because  heaven  is  perhaps  jealous  of 
its  rights.  In  short,  my  friendship  foresees  some 
unhappiness  which  no  foresight  could  explain  to  me, 
— I  do  not  know  whence  it  will  come,  nor  what  will 
give  rise  to  it;  but,  my  dear,  an  immense  and 


276  MEMOIRS  OF 

boundless  happiness  will  doubtless  overwhelm  you 
in  the  end.  An  excessive  joy  is  supported  with 
even  less  facility  than  the  heaviest  pain.  I  do  not 
say  anything  against  him :  you  love  him,  and  I  have 
doubtless  never  seen  him;  but  you  will  write  to  me 
I  hope,  on  one  of  your  idle  days,  some  kind  of  a  por- 
trait of  this  fine  and  curious  animal. 

You  see  me  taking  my  part  gaily,  for  I  feel  a  cer- 
tainty that,  after  the  honeymoon,  you  will  do,  both 
of  you  and  with  a  common  accord,  like  the  rest  of 
the  world.  Some  day,  two  years  from  now,  on  our 
promenades,  while  passing  along  this  road,  you  will 
say  to  me:  "See,  there  is  the  chalet  from  which 
I  was  never  going  to  come  out!"  And  you  will 
laugh  with  your  fine  laugh,  showing  your  beautiful 
teeth.  I  have  said  nothing  about  it  as  yet  to  Louis, 
we  should  have  given  him  too  much  matter  for 
laughter.  I  will  inform  him  only  of  your  marriage 
and  of  your  desire  to  keep  it  secret.  You  have  un- 
fortunately no  need  of  mother  or  sister  to  put  the 
bride  to  bed.  We  are  in  October,  you  are  com- 
mencing with  the  winter,  like  a  courageous  woman. 
If  it  were  not  a  question  of  marriage,  I  would  say 
that  you  were  taking  the  bull  by  the  horns. 
Finally,  you  will  have  in  me  the  most  discreet  and 
the  most  intelligent  of  friends.  The  mysterious 
centre  of  Africa  has  devoured  many  travelers,  and 
it  seems  to  me  that  you  are  throwing  yourself,  in 
matters  of  sentiment,  into  a  journey  similar  to  those 
in  which  so  many  explorers  have  perished,  either 
by  the  negroes  or  in  the  deserts.  Your  desert  is 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  277 

at  two  leagues  from  Paris,  I  can  then  say  to  you 
cheerfully:  Bon  voyage!  we  shall  see  each  other 
again. 

LI 

THE  COMTESSE  DE  L'ESTORADE  TO  MADAME  MARIE 
GASTON 

1835. 

What  has  become  of  you,  my  dear?  After  a 
silence  of  two  years  it  is  permitted  to  Renee  to  be 
anxious  about  Louise.  This  then  is  love!  it  carries 
away,  it  annuls  a  friendship  like  ours.  Admit 
that,  if  I  adore  my  children  even  more  than  you 
love  your  Gaston,  there  is  in  the  maternal  sentiment 
an  unfathomable  immensity  which  permits  that 
nothing  should  be  taken  from  other  affections,  and 
which  leaves  a  wife  still  a  sincere  and  devoted 
friend.  Your  letters,  your  sweet  and  charming 
face,  are  missing  for  me.  I  am  reduced  to  conjec- 
tures about  you,  oh  Louise ! 

As  to  ourselves,  I  will  explain  things  to  you  in 
the  briefest  possible  manner. 

In  reading  over  your  last  letter  but  one,  I  found 
some  keen  words  on  our  political  situation.  You 
rallied  us  for  having  kept  the  place  of  president  of 
the  chamber  at  the  Cour  des  Comptes,  which  we 
held,  as  well  as  the  title  of  count,  through  the  favor 
of  Charles  X. ;  but  is  it  with  forty  thousand  francs 
income,  of  which  thirty  belong  to  a  majorat,  that  I 
could  comfortably  establish  Athenais  and  this  poor 


278  MEMOIRS  OF 

little  beggar  of  a  Rene?  Should  we  not  get  our 
living  from  our  office,  and  wisely  accumulate  the 
revenue  on  our  lands?  In  twenty  years  we  shall 
have  accumulated  about  six  hundred  thousand 
francs,  which  will  serve  to  provide  for  my  daughter 
and  Rene,  whom  I  destine  for  the  navy.  My  poor 
little  one  will  have  ten  thousand  francs  income,  and* 
perhaps  we  may  be  able  to  leave  him  in  money  a 
sum  which  will  render  his  share  equal  to  that  of 
his  sister.  When  he  becomes  captain  of  a  vessel, 
my  beggar  shall  marry  a  rich  wife,  and  he  will  hold 
in  the  world  a  rank  equal  to  that  of  his  elder 
brother. 

These  sage  calculations  have  determined  in  our 
household  the  acceptance  of  the  new  order  of  things. 
Naturally,  the  new  dynasty  made  Louis  peer  of 
France  and  grand  officer  of  the  Legion  of  Honor. 
From  the  moment  when  L'Estorade  took  the  oath, 
he  could  do  nothing  by  half;  from  that  date  he 
rendered  great  services  in  the  Chamber.  Now  he 
has  arrived  at  a  situation  in  which  he  may  rest 
peacefully  until  the  end  of  his  days.  He  is  dexterous 
in  the  management  of  public  affairs;  he  is  rather  an 
agreeable  speaker  than  an  orator,  but  this  is  suffi- 
cient for  what  we  ask  in  politics.  His  shrewdness, 
his  knowledge  both  in  government  and  in  adminis- 
tration are  appreciated  and  all  parties  consider  him 
an  indispensable  man,  I  may  say  to  you  that  he  has 
been  lately  offered  an  embassy,  but  I  caused  him  to 
refuse  it.  The  education  of  Armand  who  is  now 
thirteen  years  old,  that  of  Athenais  who  is  going  on 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  279 

toward  eleven,  detain  me  in  Paris,  and  I  wish  to 
remain  here  until  my  little  Rene  has  finished  his, 
which  is  now  commencing. 

To  have  remained  faithful  to  the  Elder  Branch  and 
to  return  to  the  estates,  it  would  have  been  neces- 
sary not  to  have  had  to  raise  and  to  provide  for 
three  children.  A  mother  should,  my  angel,  not  be 
a  Decius,  above  all  at  a  time  when  the  Decia  are 
rare.  In  fifteen  years  from  now,  L'Estorade  will  be 
able  to  retire  to  La  Crampade  with  a  good  pension, 
in  installing  Armand  at  the  Cour  des  Comptes 
where  he  will  leave  him  referendary.  As  to  Rene, 
the  navy  will  doubtless  make  him  a  diplomat.  At 
the  age  of  seven  this  little  boy  is  already  as  keen 
as  an  old  cardinal. 

Ah!  Louise,  I  am  a  very  happy  mother!  My 
children  continue  to  give  me  joys  without  number. 
— Sen^a  brama  sicura  riche^a.—^  Armand  is  in  the 
Henry  Fourth  College,  I  decided  for  a  public  educa- 
tion without  being  able,  nevertheless,  to  separate 
myself  from  him,  and  I  have  done  as  the  Due 
d'Orleansdid  before  being,  and  perhaps  in  order  to 
become,  Louis-Philippe.  Every  morning  Lucas, 
that  old  servant  whom  you  know,  takes  Armand  to 
the  college  at  the  hour  of  the  first  classes,  and  brings 
him  back  to  me  at  half-past  four.  An  old  and 
learned  tutor  who  lives  in  my  house,  makes  him 
study  in  the  evening  and  wakes  him  in  the  morning 
at  the  hour  at  which  the  collegians  rise.  Lucas 
carries  him  a  lunch  at  noon,  during  the  recess. 
Thus  I  see  him  at  dinner,  in  the  evening  before  he 


280  MEMOIRS  OF 

goes  to  bed,  and  I  assist  at  his  departure  in  the 
morning.  Armand  is  still  the  charming  child,  affec- 
tionate and  devoted,  whom  you  love;  his  tutor  is 
well  pleased  with  him.  I  have  my  Nais  with  me 
and  the  little  one  who  buzzes  unceasingly,  but  I  am 
as  much  of  a  child  as  they.  I  have  not  been  able  to 
bring  myself  to  resolve  to  lose  the  sweetness  of  the 
caresses  of  my  dear  infants.  To  be  able  to  run,  as 
often  as  I  desire,  to  Armand's  bed,  to  see  him  asleep, 
to  go  to  take,  to  ask,  or  to  receive  a  kiss  from  this 
angel,  is  for  me  a  necessity  of  my  life. 

Nevertheless,  this  system  of  keeping  children  in 
the  paternal  household  has  its  inconveniences,  and 
I  have  thoroughly  recognized  them.  Society,  like 
nature,  is  jealous,  and  never  permits  any  encroach- 
ment upon  its  laws;  it  does  not  suffer  any  one  to 
derange  its  economy.  Thus  in  the  families  in  which 
the  children  are  kept  at  home,  they  are  too  soon 
exposed  to  the  distractions  of  the  world,  they  see  its 
passions,  they  study  its  dissimulations.  Incapable 
of  divining  the  distinctions  which  regulate  the  con- 
duct of  accomplished  people,  they  measure  the  world 
by  their  sentiments,  their  passions,  instead  of  sub- 
mitting their  desires  and  their  requirements  to  the 
world;  they  adopt  the  false  glitter,  which  shines 
more  than  the  solid  virtues,  for  it  is  above  all  spe- 
cious appearances  which  the  world  puts  forward 
and  with  which  it  clothes  deceitful  forms.  When, 
at  the  age  of  fifteen,  a  child  has  the  self-assurance 
of  a  man  who  knows  the  world,  he  is  a  monstrosity, 
becomes  an  old  man  at  twenty-five,  and  renders 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  281 

himself  by  this  precocious  science  unfit  for  the  solid 
studies  on  which  real  and  serious  talents  are  based. 
The  world  is  a  great  comedian;  and,  like  the  come- 
dian, it  receives  and  sends  back  everything,  it  re- 
tains nothing.  A  mother  should  then,  in  keeping 
her  children  about  her,  take  the  firm  resolution  to 
prevent  them  from  penetrating  into  the  world, 
should  have  the  courage  to  oppose  both  their  desires 
and  her  own,  not  to  show  them.  Cornelia  should 
lock  up  her  jewels.  Thus  will  I  do,  for  my  children 
are  my  whole  life. 

I  am  thirty  years  old,  the  greatest  heat  of  the  day 
is  past,  the  most  difficult  part  of  the  road  tra- 
versed. In  a  few  years  I  shall  be  an  old  woman, 
thus  1  shall  draw  an  immense  strength  from  the 
consciousness  of  duties  accomplished.  One  would 
say  that  these  three  little  beings  know  my  thought 
and  conform  themselves  to  it  There  exist  be- 
tween them,  who  have  never  left  me,  and  myself, 
mysterious  relations.  In  short,  they  overwhelm  me 
with  enjoyment,  as  though  they  knew  all  that  they 
owe  me  for  indemnification. 

Armand,  who  during  the  first  three  years  of  his 
studies  was  dull,  thoughtful,  and  who  filled  me  with 
anxieties,  has  suddenly  taken  a  fresh  start  Doubt- 
less he  has  comprehended  the  object  of  these  pre- 
paratory labors  which  children  do  not  always 
perceive,  and  which  is  to  accustom  them  to  work, 
to  sharpen  their  intelligence  and  to  accustom  them 
to  obedience,  the  principle  of  all  society.  My  dear, 
a  few  days  ago,  I  had  the  intoxicating  sensation 


282  MEMOIRS  OF 

of  seeing  Armand  crowned  in  the  general  competi- 
tion, in  full  gathering  at  Sorbonne.  Your  godson  re- 
ceived the  first  prize  for  translation.  At  the  distri- 
bution of  the  prizes  of  the  Henry  Fourth  College  he 
obtained  two  first  prizes,  that  for  verses  and  that  for 
a  theme.  I  turned  pale  when  I  heard  his  name  pro- 
claimed, and  I  had  a  great  desire  to  cry  out:  " I  am 
his  mother!"  Nais  grasped  my  hand  so  tightly  as 
to  hurt,  if  one  could  feel  pain  in  such  a  moment. 
Ah!  Louise,  this  fete  is  worth  a  great  many  lost 
loves. 

The  triumphs  of  the  brother  have  stimulated  my 
little  Rene,  who  wants  to  go  to  the  college  like  his 
elder  brother.  Sometimes  these  three  infants  cry, 
make  a  disturbance  in  the  house  and  a  noise  to  drive 
one  to  distraction.  I  do  not  know  how  1  resist  it, 
for  I  am  always  with  them;  I  have  never  trusted  to 
anyone,  not  even  to  Mary,  the  care  of  my  children. 
But  there  are  so  many  joys  to  gather  in  this  beauti- 
ful avocation  of  a  mother!  To  see  an  infant  leave 
his  play  to  come  to  embrace  me  as  if  driven  by  a 
need — what  joy !  Then  one  observes  them  so  much 
the  better.  One  of  the  duties  of  a  mother  is  to  dis- 
tinguish from  the  earliest  ages  the  aptitudes,  the 
character,  the  vocation  of  her  children,  that  which 
no  pedagogue  would  know  how  to  do.  All  children 
brought  up  by  their  mother  have  experience  and 
good  breeding,  two  acquisitions  which  supplement 
the  natural  intelligence,  whilst  the  natural  intelli- 
gence never  supplements  that  which  men  learn  from 
their  mothers.  I  recognize  already  these  shades  of 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  283 

distinction  among  the  men  in  the  salons,  in  whom  I 
distinguish  almost  immediately  the  traces  of  the 
woman  in  the  manners  of  the  young  man.  Why 
should  one's  children  be  deprived  of  such  an  ad- 
vantage ?  As  you  see,  my  duties  accompl  ished  are 
fertile  in  treasures,  in  enjoyments. 

Armand,  I  am  certain  of  it,  will  be  the  most  ex- 
cellent magistrate,  the  most  upright  administrator, 
the  most  conscientious  deputy  that  can  ever  be  met 
with;  whilst  my  Rene  will  be  the  most  courageous, 
the  most  adventurous  and  at  the  same  time  the 
shrewdest  sailor  in  the  world.  This  little  scamp 
has  an  iron  will ;  he  has  all  that  he  wishes  for,  he 
will  take  a  thousand  detours  to  arrive  at  his  object 
and  if  the  thousand  do  not  bring  him  there,  he  will 
find  a  thousand  and  one.  Where  my  dear  Armand 
resigns  himself  with  calmness  while  studying  the 
reason  of  things,  my  Rene  storms,  sets  his  wits  to 
work,  combines,  talking  ceaselessly,  and  ends  by 
discovering  a  joint;  if  he  can  slip  in  the  blade  of  a 
knife,  very  soon  he  will  have  room  to  drive  in  his 
little  carriage. 

As  to  Nais,  she  is  so  much  myself,  that  I  do  not 
distinguish  her  flesh  from  my  own.  Ah,  the  darling, 
the  beloved  little  girl  whom  I  please  myself  by 
making  coquettish,  whose  hair  and  whose  curls  I 
dress  weaving  in  with  them  my  thoughts  of  love,  I 
wish  her  to  be  happy;  she  shall  never  be  given  but 
to  one  who  will  love  her  and  whom  she  will  love. 
But,  my  God!  when  I  let  her  ornament  herself,  or 
when  I  tie  red  ribbons  in  her  hair,  when  I  shoe  her 


284  MEMOIRS  OF 

little  feet  so  delicate,  there  leaps  to  my  heart  and 
to  my  head  a  thought  which  almost  makes  me  faint. 
Can  anyone  govern  her  daughter's  fate  ?  Perhaps 
she  will  love  a  man  unworthy  of  her,  perhaps  she 
will  not  be  loved  by  him  whom  she  loves.  Often 
when  I  contemplate  her  the  tears  come  into  my  eyes. 
To  leave  a  charming  creature,  a  flower,  a  rose, 
which  has  lived  on  our  breast  like  a  bud  on  a  rose 
tree,  and  to  give  her  to  a  man  who  ravishes  every- 
thing from  us !  It  is  you  who,  in  two  years,  have 
not  written  me  these  three  words:  "I  am  happy!"  it 
is  you  who  have  recalled  to  me  the  drama  of  mar- 
riage, horrible  for  a  mother  who  is  as  much  of  a 
mother  as  I  am.  Adieu,  for  I  do  not  know  why  I  am 
writing  to  you,  you  do  not  merit  my  friendship. 
Oh !  answer  me,  my  Louise. 

LII 
MADAME  GASTON  TO  MADAME  DE  L'ESTORADE 

At  the  Chalet. 

A  silence  of  two  years  has  piqued  your  curiosity, 
you  ask  me  why  I  have  not  written  to  you ;  but,  my 
dear  Renee,  there  are  no  phrases,  no  words,  no 
language,  to  express  my  happiness :  our  souls  have 
the  strength  to  sustain  it,  this  is  the  whole  truth  in 
two  words.  We  have  not  to  make  the  slightest 
effort  in  order  to  be  happy,  we  understand  each 
other  in  everything.  In  two  years  there  has  not 
been  the  slightest  dissonance  in  this  concert,  the 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  285 

least  discord  of  expression  in  our  sentiments,  the 
least  difference  in  the  least  wishes.  In  short,  my 
dear,  there  is  not  one  of  these  thousand  days  which 
has  not  borne  its  peculiar  fruit,  not  one  moment 
which  fancy  has  not  rendered  delightful.  Not  only 
will  our  life,  we  have  the  certainty  of  it,  never  be 
monotonous,  but,  still  more,  it  will  never  perhaps 
be  sufficiently  extended  to  contain  the  poesies  of  our 
love,  fruitful  as  nature,  varied  as  she.  No,  not  one 
mistake!  We  please  each  other  still  more  than  on 
the  first  day,  and  we  discover  from  moment  to 
moment  new  reasons  for  loving  each  other.  We 
promise  each  other  every  evening  in  taking  our 
promenade  after  dinner  to  go  to  Paris  through  curi- 
osity, as  you  would  say:  "I  am  going  to  see 
Switzerland." 

"What!"  replies  Gaston,  "they  are  laying  out 
such  a  boulevard,  the  Madeleine  is  completed.  We 
must  go  and  see  that." 

Bah!  the  next  morning  we  remain  in  bed,  we 
breakfast  in  our  chamber ;  noon  comes,  it  is  warm, 
a  little  siesta  is  permitted;  then  he  asks  me  to  per- 
mit him  to  look  at  me,  and  he  looks  at  me  abso- 
lutely as  if  I  were  a  picture;  he  loses  himself  in 
this  contemplation,  which,  as  you  may  imagine,  is 
reciprocal.  Tears  then,  fill  our  eyes,  we  think  of 
our  happiness  and  we  tremble.  I  am  always  his 
mistress,  that  is  to  say  that  I  appear  to  love  less 
than  I  am  loved.  This  deceiving  is  delicious. 
There  is  so  much  charm  for  us  women  to  see  feel  ing 
prevail  over  desire,  to  see  the  master,  still  timid, 


286  MEMOIRS  OF 

halt  there  where  we  wish  that  he  should  remain! 
You  have  asked  me  to  tell  you  what  he  is  like;  but, 
my  Renee,  it  is  impossible  to  draw  the  portrait  of  a 
man  whom  one  loves,  one  would  not  know  whether 
it  was  truthful  or  not  Then,  between  ourselves, 
let  us  admit  without  prudishness  a  singular  and  sor- 
rowful result  of  our  manners, — there  is  nothing  so 
different  as  a  man  of  the  world  from  a  man  of  love; 
the  difference  is  so  great  that  one  can  resemble  the 
other  in  nothing.  He  who  assumes  the  most  grace- 
ful attitudes  of  the  most  graceful  dancer  in  order  to 
say  to  us  at  the  corner  of  the  fire,  in  the  evening,  a 
word  of  love,  may  have  not  one  of  the  secret  graces 
which  a  woman  desires.  On  the  contrary,  a  man 
who  appears  ugly,  without  manners,  badly  clothed 
in  his  black  cloth,  hides  a  lover  who  possesses  the 
spirit  of  love,  and  who  will  not  be  ridiculous  in  any 
one  of  those  positions  in  which  we  ourselves  can 
perish  with  all  our  exterior  graces.  To  discover  in 
a  man  a  mysterious  accord  between  that  which  he 
appears  to  be  and  that  which  he  is,  to  find  among 
them  one  who  in  the  secret  life  of  marriage  shall 
have  that  innate  grace  which  is  not  given,  which 
cannot  be  acquired,  which  the  antique  statuary  has 
displayed  in  the  voluptuous  and  chaste  marriages  of 
his  statues,  that  innocence  of  abandonment  which 
the  ancients  have  put  in  their  poems,  and  which  in 
the  undraped  appears  to  have  still  more  covering  for 
the  souls,  all  this  ideal  which  springs  from  our- 
selves and  which  belongs  to  the  world  of  harmony, 
which  is  doubtless  the  genius  of  things;  in  short, 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  287 

this  immense  problem  sought  for  by  the  imagination 
of  all  women,  well,  Gaston  is  of  it  the  living  solu- 
tion. Ah!  dear,  I  did  not  know  what  love,  youth, 
wit  and  beauty  in  union  were.  My  Gaston  is  never 
affected,  his  grace  is  instinctive,  it  develops  itself 
without  effort  When  we  walk  alone  in  the  woods, 
his  hand  passed  around  my  waist,  mine  on  his 
shoulder,  his  body  close  to  mine,  our  heads  touching 
each  other,  we  proceed  with  an  equal  step,  by  a 
movement  uniform  and  so  gentle,  so  quite  the  same, 
that  for  those  who  should  see  us  pass  we  would  ap- 
pear to  be  but  one  being,  gliding  over  the  gravel  of 
the  alleys  like  Homer's  Immortals.  This  harmony 
is  in  the  desire,  in  the  thought,  in  the  speech. 
Sometimes,  under  the  foliage,  still  wet  from  a  pass- 
ing shower,  when  in  the  evening  the  grass  is  of  a 
greenness  made  lustrous  by  the  rain,  we  have  taken 
entire  walks  without  saying  a  single  word  to  each 
other,  listening  to  the  sound  of  the  drops  which  fell, 
enjoying  the  reddish  colors  which  the  setting  sun 
displayed  on  the  tops  or  reflected  on  the  gray  barks 
of  the  trees.  Certainly  our  thoughts  were  then  a 
secret,  confused  prayer,  which  mounted  to  Heaven 
as  an  excuse  for  our  happiness.  Sometimes  we 
cried  out  together  at  the  same  moment,  in  seeing  the 
end  of  an  alley  which  turned  suddenly,  and  which 
from  a  distance  offered  us  delightful  images.  If  you 
know  what  there  is  of  honey  and  of  profundity  in 
a  kiss  almost  timid  given  in  the  midst  of  this  holy 
nature — it  is  to  believe  that  God  has  made  us  only 
that  we  might  pray  thus.  And  we  always  returned 


288  MEMOIRS  OF 

with  increased  mutual  love.  This  love  between 
two  married  people  would  seem  an  insult  to  society 
in  Paris,  it  is  necessary  to  deliver  one's  self  up  to 
it  like  the  lovers  in  the  depths  of  the  forest. 

Gaston,  my  dear,  has  that  medium  stature  which 
has  been  that  of  all  men  of  energy;  he  is  neither  fat 
nor  lean,  and  is  very  well  built;  his  proportions 
have  a  roundness;  there  is  dexterity  in  all  his 
movements,  he  leaps  a  ditch  with  the  lightness  of  a 
wild  beast.  In  whatever  position  he  may  be  he 
has  in  him  a  sense  which  enables  him  to  find  his 
equilibrium,  and  this  is  rare  among  men  who  have 
the  habit  of  meditation.  Although  a  brunette,  he  is 
of  a  great  whiteness.  His  hair  is  of  a  blackness 
like  jet  and  offers  vigorous  contrasts  with  the  dull 
whiteness  of  the  tones  of  his  neck  and  of  his  fore- 
head. He  has  the  melancholy  head  of  Louis  XIII. 
He  has  permitted  his  moustaches  and  his  imperial 
to  grow,  but  I  have  made  him  cut  off  his  whiskers 
and  his  beard;  they  have  become  common.  His 
holy  poverty  preserved  him  pure  for  me  from  all 
those  stains  which  spoil  so  many  young  men.  He 
has  magnificent  teeth,  his  health  is  like  iron.  The 
glance  of  his  blue  eye,  so  piercing,  but  for  me  of  a 
magnetic  softness,  lights  up  and  burns  like  a  flame 
when  his  soul  is  agitated.  Like  all  persons  who  are 
strong  and  of  a  powerful  intelligence,  he  has  an 
evenness  of  character  which  will  surprise  you  as  it 
has  surprised  me.  I  have  heard  many  women  con- 
fide to  me  the  vexations  of  their  household;  but 
these  variations  of  will,  these  disquietudes  of  men 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  289 

discontented  with  themselves,  who  do  not  wish  to 
or  who  do  not  know  how  to  grow  old,  who  experi- 
ence unknown  eternal  reproaches  for  their  mad 
youth,  and  whose  veins  are  filled  with  poison, 
whose  glance  has  always  a  depth  of  sadness,  who 
have  made  themselves  wilful  in  order  to  hide  their 
suspicions,  who  will  sell  you  an  hour  of  tranquil- 
lity for  evil  mornings,  who  will  revenge  themselves 
on  us  for  not  being  able  to  be  amiable,  and  who 
conceive  a  secret  hatred  for  our  beauties, — all  these 
miseries  youth  is  not  acquainted  with,  they  are  the 
attributes  of  disproportioned  marriages.  Oh!  my 
dear,  do  not  marry  Athenais  to  any  but  a  young  man. 
If  you  knew  how  much  I  feast  upon  this  constant 
smile  which  a  fine  and  delicate  spirit  varies  unceas- 
ingly, of  this  smile  which  speaks,  which  in  the 
corners  of  the  lips  encloses  thoughts  of  love,  mute 
thankfulnesses,  and  which  always  unites  past  joys 
to  the  present  ones !  There  is  never  anything  for- 
gotten between  us.  We  have  made  of  the  least 
things  of  nature  the  accomplices  of  our  felicities: 
everything  is  living,  everything  speaks  to  us  of 
ourselves  in  this  ravishing  forest  A  mossy  old 
oak,  near  the  house  of  the  keeper  on  the  road,  tells 
us  that  we  have  seated  ourselves  fatigued  in  its 
shadow  and  that  Gaston  has  explained  to  me  the 
mosses  which  were  at  our  feet,  has  related  to  me 
their  history,  and  that,  from  these  mosses,  we  have 
mounted  from  science  to  science,  to  the  ends  of  the 
world.  Our  two  spirits  have  something  so  frater- 
nal, that  I  think  that  it  is  two  editions  of  the  same 
19 


2cp  MEMOIRS  OF 

work.  As  you  see,  I  have  become  literary.  We 
have  both  of  us  the  habit  or  the  gift  of  seeing  each 
thing  in  its  full  extent,  of  perceiving  all  of  it,  and 
the  proof  that  we  are  constantly  giving  each  other 
of  the  purity  of  this  interior  sense  is  a  pleasure 
always  new.  We  have  come  to  consider  this  under- 
standing of  the  spirit  as  a  witness  of  love;  and,  if 
ever  it  should  be  missing  for  us,  it  would  be  for  us 
what  an  infidelity  is  for  other  households. 

My  life,  full  of  pleasures,  will  appear  to  you, 
moreover,  excessively  laborious.  In  the  first  place, 
my  dear,  learn  that  Louise-Armande-Marie  de 
Chaulieu  takes  care  of  her  own  chamber.  I  would 
never  suffer  that  hired  services,  that  a  strange 
woman  or  maid  should  be  initiated — literary 
woman ! — into  the  secrets  of  my  bedchamber.  My 
religion  embraces  the  least  things  necessary  to  its 
cult.  It  is  not  jealousy,  but  rather  respect  for  one's 
self.  Thus  my  chamber  is  arranged  with  the  care 
which  a  young  girl  in  love  might  take  of  her  sur- 
roundings. I  am  as  fastidious  as  an  old  maid.  My 
dressing-room,  instead  of  being  topsy-turvy  is  a  de- 
licious boudoir.  My  cares  have  foreseen  every- 
thing. The  master,  the  sovereign,  may  enter  it  at 
any  moment;  his  eyes  will  not  be  offended, 
astonished  nor  disenchanted, — flowers,  perfumes, 
elegance,  everything  there  charms  the  eye.  While 
he  is  still  sleeping  in  the  morning,  at  daybreak, 
without  his  having  yet  suspected  it,  I  arise,  I  pass 
into  this  cabinet  where,  rendered  sage  by  my 
mother's  experiences,  I  remove  the  traces  of  sleep 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  291 

with  lotions  of  cold  water.  Whilst  we  sleep,  the 
skin,  less  excited,  performs  its  functions  sluggishly ; 
it  becomes  warm,  it  has  as  it  were  a  fog  visible  to 
the  eyes  of  the  flesh-worm,  a  sort  of  atmosphere. 
Under  the  streaming  sponge  a  woman  becomes  a 
young  girl.  In  this  perhaps  may  be  found  the 
meaning  of  the  myth  of  Venus  issuing  from  the  sea. 
The  water  thus  gives  the  piquant  graces  of  the 
morning;  I  comb  myself,  I  perfume  my  hair;  and 
after  this  careful  toilet,  I  slip  in  again  like  a  ser- 
pent, so  that  on  his  awakening  the  master  finds  me 
as  fine  as  a  spring  morning.  He  is  charmed  with 
this  freshness  of  the  newly-blown  flower,  without 
being  able  to  explain  the  reason.  Later,  the  toilet 
for  the  day  is  an  affair  for  my  femme  de  chambre 
and  takes  place  in  a  dressing-room.  There  is,  as 
you  may  suppose,  the  toilet  for  retiring.  Thus  I 
make  three  of  them  for  monsieur  my  husband, 
sometimes  four;  but  this,  my  dear,  relates  to  other 
myths  of  antiquity. 

We  have  also  our  labors.  We  are  much  inter- 
ested in  our  flowers,  in  the  beautiful  creatures  of 
our  greenhouse  and  in  our  trees.  We  are  seriously 
botanists,  we  love  flowers  passionately,  the  chalet 
is  encumbered  with  them.  Our  turfs  are  always 
green,  our  shrubberies  are  cared,  for  like  those  of 
the  gardens  of  the  richest  banker.  So  that  nothing 
is  as  handsome  as  our  enclosure.  We  are  great 
gourmands  concerning  fruits,  we  superintend  our 
peaches,  our  hotbeds,  our  espaliers,  our  fruit  trees 
cut  distaff-fashion.  But  if  these  rustic  occupations 


2Q2  MEMOIRS  OF 

should  not  satisfy  the  mind  of  my  adored,  I  have  coun- 
seled him  to  finish  in  silence  and  in  solitude  some 
of  those  pieces  for  the  theatre  which  he  commenced 
during  his  days  of  poverty,  and  which  are  truly 
admirable.  This  species  of  labor  is  the  only  one  in 
Letters  which  can  be  quitted  and  taken  up  again,  for 
it  demands  long  reflection,  and  does  not  exact  the 
careful  chiseling  required  by  style.  The  dialogue 
cannot  always  be  done,  it  requires  for  it  outlines, 
resumes,  sallies,  which  the  mind  produces  as  plants 
give  their  flowers,  and  which  are  found  rather  in 
waiting  for  them  than  in  seeking  them.  This  pur- 
suit of  ideas  suits  me.  1  am  the  collaborator  of  my 
Gaston,  and  thus  never  leave  him,  not  even  when 
he  is  traveling  into  the  vast  fields  of  the  imagina- 
tion. Can  you  guess  now  how  I  get  through  the 
winter  evenings  ?  Our  service  is  so  gentle,  that  we 
have  not  had  since  our  marriage  a  word  of  reproach, 
not  an  observation  to  address  to  our  servants. 
When  they  have  been  questioned  about  us,  they 
have  displayed  a  crafty  spirit,  they  have  passed  us 
off  for  the  lady  companion  and  the  secretary  of  their 
masters  reputed  to  be  traveling;  confident  of  never 
meeting  with  the  least  refusal  they  never  go  out 
without  asking  permission;  moreover,  they  are 
happy,  and  see  clearly  that  their  condition  can  be 
changed  only  by  their  own  fault.  We  permit  the 
gardeners  to  sell  the  surplus  of  our  fruits  and  of  our 
vegetables.  The  neatherd  who  has  charge  of  the 
dairy  does  the  same  with  the  milk,  the  cream  and  the 
fresh  butter.  Only,  the  best  of  all  these  products 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  293 

is  reserved  for  our  own  use.  These  people  are 
very  well  content  with  their  profits,  and  we  are 
enchanted  with  this  abundance  which  no  fortune 
could  or  would  know  how  to  procure  in  that  terrible 
Paris,  where  the  fine  peaches  cost,  each  one,  the 
income  from  one  hundred  francs.  All  this,  my 
dear,  has  a  reason :  I  wish  to  be  the  world  for  Gas- 
ton;  the  world  is  amusing,  my  husband  should  then 
not  weary  himself  in  this  solitude.  I  believed  my- 
self jealous  when  I  was  loved  and  when  I  let  myself 
be  loved;  but  I  experience  to-day  the  jealousy  of 
the  women  who  love,  in  short,  the  true  jealousy. 
Thus,  any  one  of  his  looks  which  seems  to  me  in- 
different makes  me  tremble.  From  time  to  time  I 
say  to  myself:  "If  he  should  be  going  to  love  me 
no  more — "  and  I  shudder.  Oh !  I  am  indeed  before 
him  as  the  Christian  soul  is  before  God. 

Alas,  my  Renee,  I  have  still  no  children.  A 
moment  will  come  without  doubt  when  the  senti- 
ments of  the  father  and  the  mother  will  be  required 
to  animate  this  retreat,  when  we  shall  have  need, 
both  of  us,  of  seeing  the  little  dresses,  pelerines, 
little  brown  or  blonde  heads  leaping,  running 
through  the  shrubberies  and  our  flowery  paths. 
Oh !  what  a  monstrosity  are  flowers  without  fruits. 
The  memory  of  your  beautiful  family  is  poignant 
for  me.  My  life,  for  myself,  is  restricted,  whilst 
yours  has  enlarged,  has  radiated  outward.  Love  is 
profoundly  egotistical,  whilst  maternity  tends  to 
multiply  our  sentiments.  I  have  deeply  felt  this 
difference  in  reading  your  good,  your  tender  letter. 


294  MEMOIRS  OF 

Your  happiness  has  made  me  envious  in  seeing 
you  live  in  three  hearts!  Yes,  you  are  happy:  you 
have  sagely  fulfilled  the  laws  of  social  life,  whilst 
I  am  outside  of  everything.  It  is  only  children 
loving  and  loved  who  can  console  a  woman  for  the 
loss  of  her  beauty.  I  shall  be  thirty  soon,  and  at 
that  age,  the  terrible  internal  lamentations  of  a 
woman  commence.  If  I  am  beautiful  yet,  I  perceive 
the  limits  of  the  feminine  life;  after  which  what 
will  become  of  me?  When  I  shall  be  forty,  he  will 
not  be,  he  will  be  young  still  and  I  shall  be  old. 
When  this  thought  traversed  my  heart,  I  remained 
at  his  feet  an  hour,  making  him  swear  that,  when 
he  should  feel  less  love  for  me,  he  would  tell  me  on 
the  instant.  But  he  is  a  child,  he  swears  it  to  me 
as  if  his  love  could  never  diminish,  and  he  is  so 
handsome  that — you  understand!  I  believe  him. 
Adieu,  dear  angel ;  shall  we  be  again  years  without 
writing  to  each  other  ?  Happiness  is  monotonous  in 
its  expressions ;  thus  it  is  perhaps  because  of  this 
difficulty  that  Dante  seems  greater  to  loving  souls 
in  his  Paradise  than  in  his  Inferno.  I  am  not  Dante, 
I  am  only  your  friend,  and  wish  not  to  weary  you. 
You,  you  can  write  to  me,  for  you  have  in  your 
children  a  varied  happiness  which  goes  on  increas- 
ing, whilst  mine — .  Do  not  speak  any  more  of  it. 
I  send  you  a  thousand  tendernesses. 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  295 

LIU 

MADAME  DE  L'ESTORADE   TO  MADAME  GASTON 

My  dear  Louise,  1  have  read,  re-read  your  letter, 
and  the  more  its  meaning  has  penetrated  me  the 
more  have  I  seen  in  you  less  a  woman  than  a  child; 
you  have  not  changed,  you  forget  what  I  have  said 
to  you  a  thousand  times, — Love  is  a  theft  made  by 
the  social  state  from  the  natural  state ;  it  is  so  tran- 
sient in  its  nature,  that  the  resources  of  society 
cannot  change  its  primitive  condition:  thus  all  the 
noble  souls  endeavor  to  make  a  man  of  this  infant; 
but  then  Love  becomes,  according  to  you  yourself, 
a  monstrosity.  Society,  my  dear,  has  wished  to  be 
fruitful.  In  substituting  durable  sentiments  for  the 
fugitive  folly  of  nature  she  has  created  the  greatest 
human  thing, — the  Family,  eternal  base  of  all  soci- 
eties. She  has  sacrificed  the  man  as  well  as  the 
woman  to  her  work ;  for,  let  us  not  deceive  our- 
selves, the  father  of  the  family  gives  his  activity, 
his  strength,  all  his  fortunes,  to  his  wife.  Is  it  not 
the  wife  who  enjoys  all  the  sacrifices?  the  luxury, 
the  riches,  is  it  not  nearly  all  for  her?  for  her  the 
glory  and  the  elegance,  the  sweetness  and  the  flower 
of  the  household  ?  Oh  my  angel,  you  are  once  more 
taking  life  very  badly.  To  be  adored  is  a  theme 
of  young  girls,  good  for  a  few  springs,  but  which 
could  not  be  that  of  a  married  woman  and  a  mother. 
Perhaps  it  is  sufficient  for  the  vanity  of  a  woman 
to  know  that  she  can  make  herself  adored.  If  you 


296  MEMOIRS  OF 

wish  to  be  wife  and  mother,  return  to  Paris.  Let 
me  repeat  it  to  you  that  you  will  lose  yourself  in 
happiness  as  others  lose  themselves  through  unhap- 
piness.  The  things  which  do  not  weary  us,  silence, 
bread,  the  air,  are  without  reproach  because  they 
are  without  taste ;  whilst  the  things  full  of  savor, 
irritating  our  desires,  end  by  wearying  them. 
Listen  to  me,  my  child !  At  the  present  time,  even 
though  I  could  be  loved  by  a  man  for  whom  I  should 
feel  rising  within  me  the  love  which  you  bear  to 
Gaston,  I  should  know  how  to  remain  faithful  to  my 
dear  duties  and  to  my  sweet  family.  Maternity, 
my  angel,  is  for  the  heart  of  a  woman  one  of  those 
things  simple,  natural,  fertile,  inexhaustible  as 
those  which  are  the  elements  of  life.  I  remember 
having  one  day,  it  is  nearly  fourteen  years  ago, 
embraced  devotion  as  a  shipwrecked  man  clings  to 
the  mast  of  his  vessel,  through  despair ;  but  to-day, 
when  I  call  up  by  memory  all  my  life  before  me,  I 
would  again  choose  this  sentiment  as  the  principle 
of  my  life,  for  it  is  the  surest  and  the  most  fruitful 
of  all.  The  example  of  your  life,  based  on  a  fero- 
cious egotism,  although  hidden  by  the  poetry  of  the 
heart,  has  fortified  my  resolution.  I  shall  never  say 
these  things  to  you  again,  but  I  should  now  say 
them  to  you  once  more  for  the  last  time  on  learning 
that  your  happiness  resists  the  most  terrible  of 
trials. 

Your  life  in  the  country,  the  object  of  my  medi- 
tations, has  suggested  to  me  this  other  observation 
which  I  should  submit  to  you.  Our  life  is  composed, 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  297 

for  the  body  as  for  the  heart,  of  certain  regular 
movements.  Every  excess  brought  into  this  mech- 
anism is  a  cause  of  pleasure  or  of  sorrow;  now, 
pleasure  or  sorrow  is  a  fever  of  the  soul  e  n- 
tially  transient,  because  it  is  not  supportable  for  a 
long  time.  To  make  of  excess  the  very  life,  is  not 
that  to  live  unhealthfully ?  You  are  living  un- 
healthfully,  in  maintaining  in  the  state  of  passion 
a  sentiment  which  should  become  in  marriage  an 
equal  and  pure  force.  Yes,  my  angel,  to-day  I 
recognize  it, — the  glory  of  the  household  is  pre- 
cisely in  this  calm,  in  this  profound  mutual  cogni- 
zance, in  this  exchange  of  good  and  evil  with  which 
the  vulgar  pleasantries  reproach  it  Oh!  how  great 
it  is,  that  speech  of  the  Duchesse  de  Sully,  the  wife 
of  the  great  Sully  in  fact,  to  whom  it  was  said  that 
her  husband,  grave  as  he  appeared,  did  not  scruple  to 
have  a  mistress:  "That  is  very  simple,"  she  replied, 
"I  am  the  honor  of  the  house,  and  should  be  much 
mortified  to  play  in  it  the  rSle  of  a  courtesan." 
More  voluptuous  than  tender,  you  wish  to  be  at  once 
the  wife  and  the  mistress.  With  the  soul  of  Heloise 
and  the  senses  of  Saint  Therese,  you  deliver  your- 
self up  to  deviations  sanctioned  by  the  laws;  in  a 
word,  you  deprave  the  institution  of  marriage.  Yes, 
you  who  judged  me  so  severely  when  I  seemed  to  be 
immoral  in  accepting  on  the  evening  of  my  marriage 
the  means  of  happiness ;  in  bending  everything  to 
your  own  use  you  merit  to-day  the  reproaches  which 
you  addressed  to  me.  What !  you  wish  to  subjugate 
nature  and  society  to  your  caprice?  You  remain 


298  MEMOIRS  OF 

yourself,  you  do  not  transform  yourself  in  the 
least  into  that  which  a  wife  should  be;  you  keep 
the  wishes,  the  exactions,  of  a  young  girl,  and  you 
carry  into  your  passion  the  most  exact  calculations, 
the  most  mercantile!  Do  you  not  sell  your  adorn- 
ments very  dear  ?  I  find  you  very  suspicious  with 
all  your  precautions.  Oh!  dear  Louise,  if  you  could 
know  the  sweetness  of  the  efforts  which  the  mothers 
expend  on  themselves  in  order  to  be  good  and  tender 
to  all  their  family!  The  independence  and  the 
pride  of  my  character  have  been  melted  in  a  gentle 
melancholy,  and  which  the  maternal  pleasures  have 
dissipated  in  requiting  it.  If  the  morning  was  diffi- 
cult, the  evening  will  be  pure  and  serene.  I  am 
afraid  that  it  will  be  quite  the  contrary  with  your 
life. 

In  finishing  your  letter,  I  have  entreated  God  to 
send  you  to  pass  a  day  in  our  midst  to  convert  you 
to  the  family,  to  these  joys  unspeakable,  constant, 
eternal,  because  they  are  true,  simple,  and  accord- 
ing to  nature.  But  alas!  what  can  my  reason  do 
against  a  fault  which  renders  you  happy?  I  have 
tears  in  my  eyes  in  writing  these  last  words  to  you. 
I  frankly  believed  that  a  few  months  devoted  to  this 
conjugal  love  would  restore  you  to  reason  through 
satiety;  but  I  see  you  insatiable,  and  after  having 
killed  a  lover,  you  will  finish  by  killing  love. 
Adieu,  dear  wanderer;  I  despair,  since  the  letter 
in  which  I  hoped  to  restore  you  to  social  life  by  the 
picture  of  my  happiness  has  only  served  for  the  glo- 
rification of  your  egotism.  Yes,  there  is  nothing 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  299 

but  yourself  in  your  love,   and  you  love  Gaston 
much  more  for  yourself  than  for  himself. 


LIV 

MADAME  GASTON  TO  THE  COMTESSE  DE 
L'ESTORADE 

May  2oth. 

Renee,  the  misfortune  has  come;  no,  it  has 
descended  upon  your  poor  Louise  with  the  rapidity 
of  thunder,  and  you  understand  me, — unhappiness 
for  me,  that  is  doubt.  Conviction,  that  would  be 
death.  Day  before  yesterday,  after  my  first  toilet, 
in  looking  for  Gaston  everywhere  in  order  to  take 
a  little  promenade  before  the  dejeuner,  I  could  not 
find  him.  I  entered  the  stable,  where  I  saw  his 
mare  covered  with  sweat  and  from  whom  the  groom 
was  removing  with  the  aid  of  a  knife  the  flecks  of 
foam  before  drying  her. 

"Who  then  has  got  Fedelta  into  such  a  state?"  I 
said. 

"Monsieur,"  replied  the  boy. 

I  recognized  on  the  horse's  flanks  the  mud  of 
Paris,  which  does  not  resemble  the  mud  of  the 
country. 

"He  has  been  to  Paris,"  I  thought. 

This  thought  sent  a  thousand  others  into  my  heart 
and  drew  to  it  all  the  blood  in  my  body.  To  go  to 
Paris  without  saying  anything  to  me  about  it,  to 
select  the  hour  in  which  I  left  him  alone,  to  go  there 


300  MEMOIRS  OF 

and  return  with  such  rapidity  that  Fedelta  was 
almost  foundered ! — The  suspicion  compressed  me  in 
so  terrible  a  girdle  that  I  could  scarcely  draw  my 
breath.  I  went  and  sat  down  on  a  bench  at  the  dis- 
tance of  a  few  steps  to  endeavor  to  recover  my  self- 
possession.  Here  Gaston  found  me, ghastly, frightful, 
as  it  would  seem,  for  he  said  to  me:  "What  is  the 
matter  with  you?"  so  hastily  and  with  a  voice  so 
full  of  anxiety,  that  I  rose  and  took  him  by  the  arm ; 
but  I  had  no  strength  in  my  joints,  and  I  was  obliged 
to  sit  down  again ;  he  took  me  then  in  his  arms  and 
carried  me  into  the  parlor,  a  distance  of  a  few  steps, 
where  all  our  frightened  servants  followed  us;  but 
Gaston  sent  them  away  with  a  gesture.  When  we 
were  alone,  I  was  able,  without  wishing  to  say  any- 
thing, to  reach  our  chamber,  in  which  I  locked  my- 
self so  as  to  be  able  to  weep  unrestrained.  Gaston 
remained  at  the  door  for  nearly  two  hours  listening 
to  my  sobs,  interrogating  with  an  angelic  patience 
his  creature  who  no  longer  replied  to  him. 

"I  will  see  you  again  when  my  eyes  are  no  longer 
red  and  when  my  voice  no  longer  trembles,"  I  said 
to  him  finally. 

Theyou,  instead  of  our  familiar  and  habitual  thee, 
sent  him  suddenly  out  of  the  house.  I  bathed  my 
eyes  in  ice-water,  I  refreshed  my  countenance,  the 
door  of  our  chamber  was  opened,  I  found  him  there, 
returned  to  his  post  without  my  having  heard  the 
sound  of  his  footsteps. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  you?"  he  asked  me. 

"Nothing,"   I   said  to  him.     "I  recognized  the 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  301 

white  Paris  mud  on  Fedelta's  reeking  flanks,  I  did 
not  understand  that  you  should  go  there  without 
letting  me  know;  but  you  are  free." 

"Your  punishment  for  your  so  criminal  doubts 
shall  be  not  to  learn  my  motives  till  to-morrow," 
he  replied. 

"Look  at  me,"  I  said  to  him. 

1  plunged  my  eyes  into  his :  the  infinite  penetrated 
the  infinite.  No,  I  did  not  perceive  that  shadow 
which  infidelity  diffuses  in  the  soul  and  which  nec- 
essarily changes  the  purity  of  the  eyeballs.  I 
pretended  to  him  to  be  reassured,  even  though  I 
should  remain  anxious.  Men  know,  quite  as  well 
as  we  do,  how  to  deceive,  how  to  lie!  We  have 
not  left  each  other  since.  Oh!  dear,  how  much,  at 
moments,  in  looking  at  him,  I  feel  myself  indissolu- 
bly  attached  to  him.  What  inward  tremors  agitate 
me  when  he  comes  back  after  having  left  me  alone 
for  a  moment!  My  life  is  in  him,  and  not  in  my- 
self. I  have  given  cruel  denials  to  your  cruel  letter. 
Did  I  ever  feel  this  dependence  on  the  part  of  that 
divine  Spaniard,  for  whom  I  was  what  this  atrocious 
darling  is  for  me?  How  I  hate  that  mare!  What 
stupidity  on  my  part  to  have  had  horses !  But  it 
would  be  necessary  also  to  cut  off  Gaston's  feet,  or 
to  detain  him  in  the  cottage.  I  was  entirely  occu- 
pied with  these  stupid  thoughts,  you  may  judge  from 
that  of  my  want  of  reason.  If  love  has  not  con- 
structed a  cage  for  him,  no  power  could  retain  a 
man  who  is  weary. 

"Do  I  weary  you?"  I  said  to  him  point-blank. 


302  MEMOIRS  OF 

"How  you  torment  yourself  without  cause!"  he 
replied,  his  eyes  full  of  a  gentle  pity.  "I  have 
never  loved  you  so  much." 

"If  that  is  true,  my  adored  angel,"  I  replied  to 
him,  "let  me  have  Fedelta  sold." 

"Sell  her,"  he  said  to  me. 

This  word  all  but  crushed  me,  Gaston  seemed  to 
say  to  me: — "You  alone  are  rich  here,  I  am  noth- 
ing, I  have  no  will  at  all."  If  he  did  not  think  this, 
I  believed  that  he  thought  it,  and  I  left  him  again, 
to  go  to  bed, — the  night  had  come. 

Oh  Renee,  in  the  solitude,  a  destroying  thought 
conducts  you  toward  suicide.  These  delightful 
gardens,  this  starry  night,  this  freshness  which 
brought  to  me  in  little  puffs  the  incense  of  all  our 
flowers,  our  valley,  our  hills,  everything  seemed  to 
me  sombre,  black  and  deserted.  I  was  as  it  were 
at  the  foot  of  a  precipice  in  the  midst  of  serpents,  of 
venomous  plants;  I  no  longer  saw  God  in  the 
heavens.  After  a  night  like  this,  a  woman  has 
grown  older. 

"Take  Fedelta,  hasten  to  Paris,"  I  said  to  him 
the  next  morning,  "do  not  sell  her;  I  love  her,  she 
carries  you!" 

He  was  not  deceived,  nevertheless,  by  my  accent, 
through  which  pierced  the  interior  rage  which  I  en- 
deavored to  conceal. 

"Confidence!"  he  replied  offering  me  his  hand 
with  a  movement  so  noble  and  throwing  upon  me  so 
noble  a  look,  that  I  felt  myself  disarmed. 

"We  are  very  childish!"  I  cried. 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  303 

"No,  you  love  me,  and  that  is  all,"  he  said  press- 
ing me  to  him. 

"Go  to  Paris  without  me,"  I  said  to  him  making 
him  understand  that  1  had  put  away  all  my  sus- 
picions. 

He  went,  I  thought  that  he  would  stay  with  me. 
I  abandon  the  attempt  to  paint  to  you  my  sufferings. 
There  was  within  me  another  myself  of  whose  ex- 
istence I  did  not  know.  In  the  first  place,  this  kind 
of  scene,  my  dear,  has  a  tragic  solemnity  for  a 
woman  who  loves,  which  nothing  can  express;  your 
whole  life  appears  to  you  in  the  moment  in  which 
they  are  taking  place,  and  the  eyes  perceive 
nowhere  any  horizon ;  the  nothing  is  everything, 
there  is  a  whole  volume  in  the  regard,  the  speech  is 
full  of  icy  suspicions,  and  in  a  movement  of  the  lips 
may  be  read  a  sentence  of  death.  I  waited  for  his 
return,  for  had  I  not  shown  myself  sufficiently  noble 
and  grand  ?  I  went  up  to  the  roof  of  the  chalet  and 
I  followed  him  with  my  eyes  along  the  highroad. 
Ah!  my  dear  Renee,  I  saw  him  disappear  with 
frightful  rapidity. 

"How  he  hurries  there!"  I  thought  involuntarily. 

Then,  once  more  alone,  I  fell  back  again  into  the 
hell  of  suppositions,  into  the  tumult  of  suspicions. 
At  moments  the  certainty  of  being  betrayed  seemed 
to  me  to  be  a  balm,  compared  with  the  horrors  of 
doubt!  The  doubt  is  our  duel  with  ourselves,  and 
we  then  give  ourselves  terrible  wounds.  I  came 
and  went,  I  went  up  and  down  the  garden  alleys,  I 
returned  to  the  chalet,  I  came  out  of  it  again  like  a 


304  MEMOIRS  OF 

crazy  woman.  Leaving  at  seven  o'clock,  Gaston 
only  returned  at  eleven;  and  as  by  the  Park  of 
Saint-Cloud  and  the  Bois  de  Boulogne,  a  half  hour 
suffices  to  reach  Paris,  it  is  evident  that  he  had 
passed  three  hours  in  Paris.  He  entered  trium- 
phantly bringing  me  a  little  hand-whip  in  hard 
rubber,  the  handle  of  which  is  in  gold. 

For  two  weeks  I  had  been  without  a  whip;  mine, 
old  and  worn-out,  had  broken. 

"This  is  why  you  tortured  me?"  I  said  to  him, 
admiring  the  workmanship  of  this  jewel  which  con- 
tained a  little  perfume  flask  in  the  end. 

Then  I  comprehended  that  this  present  concealed 
a  new  deceit;  but  I  threw  myself  promptly  on  his 
neck,  not  without  having  reproached  him  gently  for 
having  imposed  such  cruel  torments  upon  me  for  a 
bagatelle.  He  thought  himself  excessively  clever. 
I  saw  then  in  his  aspect,  in  his  look,  that  species  of 
interior  joy  which  one  feels  in  carrying  out  a  trick 
successfully;  it  escapes  like  a  light  from  our  soul, 
like  a  ray  of  our  spirit  which  reflects  itself  in  the 
features,  which  disengages  itself  from  the  move- 
ment of  the  body.  While  admiring  this  pretty 
thing,  I  asked  him,  at  a  moment  when  we  were 
looking  at  each  other  closely: 

"Who  made  for  you  this  work  of  art?" 

"One  of  my  friends,  an  artist." 

"Ah!  Verdier  mounted  it,"  I  added,  reading  the 
name  of  the  dealer  stamped  on  the  whip. 

Gaston  has  remained  very  infantile,  he  blushed. 
I  overwhelmed  him  with  caresses  to  reward  him  for 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  305 

having  been  ashamed  of  deceiving  me.  I  played 
the  innocent,  and  he  thought  that  everything  was 
ended. 

May  25th. 

The  next  morning  about  six  o'clock,  I  put  on  my 
riding  habit,  and  I  descended  at  seven  at  Verdier's 
establishment,  where  I  saw  several  whips  of  this 
pattern.  A  clerk  recognized  mine  which  I  showed 
to  him. 

"We  sold  it  yesterday  to  a  young  man,"  he  said 
to  me. 

And,  on  the  description  which  I  gave  him  of  my 
impostor  of  a  Gaston,  there  was  no  longer  any 
doubt  I  spare  you  the  palpitations  of  my  heart, 
which  bruised  my  chest  in  going  to  Paris  and  during 
this  little  scene  in  which  my  life  was  decided. 
When  I  returned  at  half-past  seven,  Gaston  found 
me  radiant,  in  a  morning  toilet,  promenading  with 
a  deceitful  light-heartedness  and  certain  that  noth- 
ing would  betray  my  absence,  into  the  secret  of 
which  I  had  admitted  none  but  my  old  Philippe. 

"Gaston,"  I  said  to  him  as  we  wandered  around 
our  pond,  "I  know  well  enough  the  difference  which 
exists  between  a  unique  work  of  art,  executed  lov- 
ingly for  a  single  person,  and  that  which  comes  out 
of  a  mould." 

Gaston  turned  pale  and  looked  at  me  presenting 
to  him  the  terrible  piece  &  conviction. 

"My  friend,"  I  said  to  him,  "it  is  not  a  whip,  it 
is  a  screen  behind  which  you  hide  a  secret." 

20 


306  MEMOIRS  OF 

Thereupon,  my  dear,  I  gave  myself  the  pleasure 
of  seeing  him  twisting  himself  up  in  the  mazes  of 
falsehood  and  the  labyrinth  of  deceit  without  being 
able  to  find  an  issue,  displaying  a  prodigious  art  in 
his  endeavors  to  find  a  wall  to  climb,  but  con- 
strained to  remain  on  the  ground  before  an  adversary 
who  finally  consented  to  allow  herself  to  be  pacified. 
This  consentment  came  too  late,  as  it  always  does 
in  these  scenes.  Moreover,  I  had  committed  the 
fault  against  which  my  mother  had  endeavored  to. 
forewarn  me.  In  showing  itself  openly,  my  jealousy 
established  a  state  of  warfare  and  all  its  stratagems 
between  Gaston  and  myself.  My  dear,  jealousy  is 
essentially  stupid  and  brutal.  I  promised  myself 
then  to  suffer  in  silence,  to  watch  everything,  to 
acquire  a  certainty,  and  to  then  finish  with  Gaston, 
or  to  consent  to  my  unhappiness, — there  is  no  other 
conduct  to  follow  for  women  of  position.  What  is 
he  hiding  from  me  ?  for  he  conceals  a  secret  from  me. 
This  secret  concerns  a  woman.  Is  it  some  youthful 
adventure  for  which  he  blushes?  What?  This 
what,  my  dear,  is  engraved  in  four  letters  of  fire  on 
everything.  I  read  this  fatal  word  in  looking  in  the 
mirror  of  our  pond,  across  my  shrubbery,  in  the 
clouds  of  the  sky,  on  the  ceilings,  on  the  table,  in 
the  flowers  of  my  carpet.  In  the  midst  of  my  sleep, 
a  voice  cries  to  me  "What?"  Dating  from  that 
morning,  there  has, been  in  our  life  a  cruel  interest, 
and  I  have  known  the  most  bitter  thoughts  which 
can  corrode  our  hearts, — to  belong  to  a  man  whom 
we  think  unfaithful.  Oh !  my  dear,  this  life  partakes 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  307 

at  once  of  hell  and  of  paradise.  I  had  not  yet  even 
set  my  foot  in  this  furnace,  I,  up  to  this  time,  so 
worshipfully  adored. 

"Ah!  you  wished  one  day  to  penetrate  into  the 
sombre  and  burning  palaces  of  suffering?"  I  said  to 
myself.  "Well,  the  demons  have  heard  your  fatal 
wish:  go  forward,  unhappy  one!" 

May  3<Dth. 

Since  that  day,  Gaston,  instead  of  working 
leisurely  and  with  the  ease  of  the  rich  artist  who 
caresses  his  work,  gives  himself  tasks  like  the 
writer  who  lives  by  his  pen.  He  employs  four 
hours  every  day  in  finishing  two  pieces  for  the 
theatre. 

"He  is  in  want  of  money!" 

This  thought  was  whispered  to  me  by  an  inward 
voice.  He  expends  almost  nothing;  we  live  in  an 
absolute  confidence,  there  is  not  a  corner  of  his  cab- 
inet in  which  my  eyes  or  my  fingers  may  not 
search,  his  yearly  expenses  do  not  amount  to  two 
thousand  francs,  I  know  him  to  have  thirty  thou- 
sand francs  left,  rather  than  guarded,  in  a  drawer. 
You  know  my  meaning.  In  the  middle  of  the  night, 
I  went  during  his  sleep  to  see  if  the  sum  was  still 
there.  What  an  icy  shudder  seized  me  when  I 
found  the  drawer  empty !  In  the  same  week,  I  dis- 
covered that  he  goes  to  get  letters  at  Sevres,  and  he 
must  tear  them  up  immediately  after  having  read 
them,  for,  notwithstanding  my  Figaro-like  inven- 
tions, I  have  not  been  able  to  find  any  traces  of 


308  MEMOIRS  OF 

them.  Alas!  my  angel,  notwithstanding  my  prom- 
ises and  all  the  fine  oaths  which  I  made  to  myself 
on  the  subject  of  the  whip,  a  movement  of  the  soul 
which  must  be  called  folly  impelled  me,  and  I 
followed  him  in  one  of  his  rapid  rides  to  the  post 
office.  Gaston  was  terrified  to  be  surprised  on 
horseback  paying  the  carriage  of  a  letter  which  he 
was  holding  in  his  hand.  After  having  looked  at 
me  fixedly,  he  put  Fedelta  at  the  gallop  so  rapidly 
that  I  was  quite  overcome  on  arriving  at  the  wooden 
gate,  in  a  moment  in  which  I  thought  myself  unable 
to  feel  any  corporal  fatigue,  I  suffered  so  in  my 
soul !  There,  Gaston  said  nothing  to  me,  he  rang  and 
waited,  without  speaking  to  me.  I  was  more  dead 
than  alive.  Either  I  was  right  or  I  was  wrong;  but 
in  either  case,  my  espionage  was  unworthy  of  Ar- 
mande-Louise-Marie  de  Chaulieu.  I  rolled  in  the 
social  mud  below  the  grisette,  the  ill-bred  girl,  side 
by  side  with  the  courtesans,  the  actresses,  the  un- 
educated creatures.  What  sufferings !  Finally  the 
gate  opened,  he  gave  his  horse  to  his  groom,  and  I 
dismounted  also,  but  in  his  arms,  he  extended  them 
to  me;  I  gathered  up  my  dress  on  my  left  arm,  and 
we  walked  away — still  silent.  The  hundred  steps 
which  we  took  thus  can  count  for  me  a  hundred 
years  in  purgatory.  At  each  step,  thousands  of 
thoughts,  almost  visible,  danced  in  tongues  of  fire 
before  my  eyes,  leaped  at  my  soul,  having  each  one 
a  dart,  a  different  venom!  When  the  groom  and 
the  horses  were  at  a  distance,  I  stopped  Gaston,  I 
looked  at  him,  and  with  a  movement  which  you 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  309 

should  have  seen,  I  said  to  him,  indicating  the  fatal 
letter  which  he  still  held  in  his  right  hand: 

"Let  me  read  it?" 

He  gave  it  to  me,  I  unsealed  it,  and  read  a  letter 
in  which  Nathan,  the  dramatic  author,  informed  him 
that  one  of  our  pieces,  received,  accepted  and  put  in 
rehearsal,  was  to  be  presented  the  next  Saturday. 
The  letter  contained  a  ticket  for  a  box.  Although 
for  me  this  was  to  go  from  martyrdom  to  the 
heavens,  the  demons  still  cried  to  me,  to  trouble  my 
joy:  "Where  are  the  thirty  thousand  francs?" 
And  the  dignity,  the  honor,  all  my  ancient  self, 
prevented  me  from  asking  the  question ;  I  had  it  on 
my  lips;  I  knew  that,  if  my  thought  became  speech, 
it  would  be  necessary  for  me  to  throw  myself  in  my 
pond,  and  I  resisted  with  difficulty  the  desire  to 
speak.  Dear,  did  I  not  then  suffer  beyond  the 
woman's  strength? 

"You  are  wearying  yourself  here,  my  poor  Gas- 
ton,"  I  said  to  him,  handing  him  back  the  letter. 
"If  you  wish,  we  will  return  to  Paris." 

"To  Paris,  why?"  said  he.  "I  wished  to  know 
if  I  had  any  talent,  and  to  taste  the  punch  of  suc- 
cess!" 

At  a  moment  in  which  he  was  working,  I  could 
very  well  have  appeared  surprised  in  searching  in 
the  drawer  and  not  finding  the  thirty  thousand 
francs;  but  would  that  not  have  been  to  invite  this 
answer:  "I  have  obliged  such  and  such  a  friend," 
which  a  clever  man  like  Gaston  would  not  fail  to 
make  ? 


310  MEMOIRS  OF 

My  dear,  the  moral  of  this  is  that  the  fine  success 
of  the  piece  to  which  all  Paris  is  crowding  at  this 
moment  is  due  to  us  although  Nathan  had  all  the 
glory  of  it  I  am  one  of  the  two  stars  in  this 
announcement :  ET  MM.  *  *  *  I  saw  the  first  repre- 
sentation, hidden  in  the  back  of  a  box  in  the  pro- 
scenium on  the  ground  floor. 


July  ist 

Gaston  is  still  working  and  goes  constantly  to 
Paris ;  he  is  engaged  on  new  pieces  so  as  to  have  a 
pretext  for  going  to  Paris  and  for  procuring  money. 
We  have  three  pieces  received  and  two  ordered. 
Oh!  my  dear,  I  am  lost,  I  am  walking  in  the 
shadows.  I  would  burn  my  house  to  be  able  to  see 
clearly.  What  is  the  significance  of  such  conduct? 
Is  he  ashamed  of  having  received  a  fortune  from 
me?  His  soul  is  too  great  to  be  affected  by  such 
silliness.  Moreover,  when  a  man  begins  to  conceive 
these  scruples,  they  are  inspired  in  him  by  an  in- 
terest of  the  heart.  One  accepts  everything  from 
one's  wife,  but  no  one  wishes  to  have  anything 
from  the  woman  whom  you  think  of  leaving  or 
whom  you  no  longer  love.  If  he  wants  so  much 
money,  it  is  doubtless  because  he  has  to  expend  it 
for  a  woman.  If  it  were  only  a  question  of  himself, 
could  he  not  take  it  out  of  my  purse  without  cere- 
mony ?  We  have  a  hundred  thousand  francs  of  sav- 
ings! In  short,  my  beautiful  lamb,  I  have  traversed 
the  entire  world  of  suspicions,  and,  everything 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  311 

taken  into  consideration,  I  am  certain  that  I  have  a 
rival.  He  forsakes  me,  for  whom?  I  wish  to  see 
her. 


July  loth. 

I  have  seen  clearly :  I  am  lost.  Yes,  Renee,  at 
thirty,  in  all  the  glory  of  beauty,  rich  with  the  re- 
sources of  my  spirit,  adorned  with  the  seductions  of 
the  toilet,  always  fresh,  elegant,  I  am  betrayed,  and 
for  whom?  for  an  Englishwoman  who  has  big  feet, 
big  bones,  a  big  breast,  some  Britannic  cow.  I  can 
no  longer  doubt  This  is  what  has  happened  to  me 
in  these  last  few  days. 

Wearied  with  doubting,  thinking  that,  if  he  had 
helped  one  of  his  friends,  Gaston  would  have  told 
me  of  it,  seeing  him  accused  by  his  own  silence, 
and  finding  him  incited  to  work  by  a  continual  thirst 
for  money;  jealous  of  his  work,  disquieted  by  his 
perpetual  goings  to  Paris,  I  took  my  measures,  and 
these  measures  caused  me  to  descend  then  so  low 
that  I  cannot  tell  you  about  them.  Three  days  ago, 
I  learned  that  Gaston  when  he  goes  to  Paris,  visits 
in  the  Rue  de  la  Ville-FEveque,  at  a  house  in  which 
his  amours  are  guarded  with  a  discretion  unexam- 
pled in  Paris.  The  porter,  very  taciturn,  said  but 
little,  but  enough  to  make  me  despair.  I  made  then 
the  sacrifice  of  my  life  and  I  alone  wished  to  know 
everything.  I  went  to  Paris,  I  took  an  apartment 
in  the  house  which  is  opposite  that  in  which  Gaston 
visits,  and  I  saw  him  with  my  own  eyes  entering 


312  MEMOIRS  OF 

on  horseback  into  the  court  Oh !  I  received  only 
too  soon  a  horrible  and  frightful  revelation.  This 
Englishwoman,  who  appears  to  me  to  be  thirty-six 
years  old,  is  called  Madame  Gaston.  This  discovery 
was  for  me  the  stroke  of  death.  Finally,  I  have 
seen  her  going  to  the  Tuileries  with  two  children — . 
Oh!  my  dear,  two  children  who  are  the  living 
miniatures  of  Gaston.  It  is  impossible  not  to  be 
struck  with  a  so  scandalous  resemblance — .  And 
what  pretty  children!  they  are  dressed  richly,  as 
the  English  know  how  to  array  them.  She  has 
given  him  children!  everything  is  explained.  This 
Englishwoman  is  a  species  of  Greek  statue  de- 
scended from  some  monument;  she  has  the  white- 
ness and  the  coldness  of  marble,  she  walks  solemnly 
like  a  happy  mother.  She  is  handsome,  it  must  be 
admitted,  but  she  is  as  heavy  as  a  man-of-war. 
There  is  nothing  fine  or  distinguished  about  her,— 
certainly  she  is  not  a  lady,  she  is  the  daughter  of 
some  farmer  in  a  poor  village  in  a  distant  county, 
or  the  eleventh  daughter  of  some  poor  minister.  I 
returned  from  Paris  in  a  dying  condition.  On  the 
road,  a  thousand  thoughts  assailed  me  like  so  many 
demons.  Could  she  be  married  ?  had  he  known  her 
before  marrying  me  ?  has  she  been  the  mistress  of 
some  rich  man  who  has  abandoned  her,  and  has  she 
not  suddenly  fallen  to  the  care  of  Gaston  ?  I  made 
an  infinite  number  of  suppositions,  as  if  there  were 
any  need  of  suppositions  in  presence  of  children. 
The  next  day  I  returned  to  Paris,  and  I  gave  enough 
money  to  the  porter  of  the  house  to  secure  as 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  313 

answer  to  the  question:    "Is  Madame  Gaston  mar- 
ried legally?" 
"Yes,  Mademoiselle." 

July  1 5th. 

My  dear,  since  that  morning,  I  have  redoubled 
my  love  for  Gaston,  and  I  have  found  him  more 
amorous  than  ever ;  he  is  so  young !  Twenty  times, 
when  we  rose  in  the  morning,  I  was  ready  to  say  to 
him:  "You  love  me  more  than  she  of  the  Rue  de 
la  Ville-l'Eve'que?"  But  I  dare  not  explain  to  my- 
self the  mystery  of  my  forbearance. 

"You  love  children  a  good  deal  ?"  I  asked  him. 

"Oh  yes!"  he  replied;  "but  we  shall  have 
some!" 

"And  how?" 

"I  have  consulted  the  most  learned  physicians, 
and  they  all  have  advised  me  to  take  a  journey  of  a 
couple  of  months." 

"Gaston,"  I  said  to  him,  "if  I  had  been  able  to 
love  anyone  absent,  I  would  have  remained  in  the 
convent  to  the  end  of  my  days." 

He  began  to  laugh,  and  I,  my  dear,  the  word 
journey  killed  me.  Oh!  certainly,  I  had  rather 
throw  myself  out  of  the  window  than  allow  myself 
to  roll  down  the  stairway  clinging  from  step  to 
step — .  Farewell,  my  angel ;  I  have  rendered  my 
death  sweet,  elegant  but  infallible.  My  will  was 
drawn  up  yesterday.  You  can  now  come  to  see 
me,  the  interdict  is  raised.  Hasten  to  receive  my 
adieux.  My  death  will  be,  like  my  life,  marked 


314  MEMOIRS  OF 

with  distinction  and  with  grace:    I  will  die  in  the 
possession  of  all  my  faculties. 

Adieu,  dear  sisterly  spirit,  you  whose  affection 
has  not  had  any  aversions  nor  ups  nor  downs,  and 
who,  like  the  equable  light  of  the  moon,  have 
always  soothed  my  heart;  we  have  not  known  the 
vivacities,  but  we  have  also  not  tasted  the  venomous 
bitterness  of  love.  You  have  comprehended  life 
wisely.  Adieu! 


LV 

THE    COMTESSE    DE    L'ESTORADE    TO 
MADAME    GASTON 

July  1 6th. 

My  dear  Louise,  I  send  you  this  letter  by  an  ex- 
press before  hastening  to  the  chalet  myself.  Calm 
yourself.  Your  last  message  appeared  to  me  so 
senseless,  that  I  thought  myself  empowered,  in  such 
circumstances,  to  confide  everything  to  Louis, — it 
was  a  question  of  saving  you  from  yourself.  If, 
like  yourself,  we  have  employed  horrible  methods, 
the  result  is  so  happy  that  I  am  certain  of  your  ap- 
probation. I  even  descended  to  employ  the  police; 
but  that  is  a  secret  between  the  prefect,  ourselves, 
and  you.  Gaston  is  an  angel !  These  are  the  facts, 
— his  brother,  Louis  Gaston,  died  at  Calcutta,  in 
the  service  of  a  merchant  company,  at  the  moment 
when  he  was  about  to  return  to  France,  rich,  happy 
and  married.  The  widow  of  an  English  merchant 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  315 

had  given  him  the  most  brilliant  fortune.  After 
ten  years  of  labors  undertaken  for  the  sake  of  send- 
ing the  means  of  existence  to  his  brother,  whom  he 
adored  and  to  whom  he  did  not  mention  his  losses 
in  his  letters  so  as  not  to  distress  him,  he  was  sur- 
prised by  the  failure  of  the  famous  Halmer.  The 
widow  was  ruined.  The  blow  was  so  violent,  that 
Louis  Gaston's  head  was  affected.  The  mind,  in 
becoming  enfeebled,  permitted  the  malady  to  take 
possession  of  the  body,  and  he  succumbed  to  it  in 
Bengal,  where  he  had  gone  to  realize  on  the  rem- 
nant of  the  fortune  of  his  poor  wife.  This  dear 
captain  had  placed  in  the  hands  of  a  banker  a  first 
sum  of  three  hundred  thousand  francs  to  send  to  his 
brother;  but  this  banker,  dragged  down  by  the 
house  of  Halmer,  deprived  them  of  this  last  resource. 
The  widow  of  Louis  Gaston,  this  handsome  woman 
whom  you  take  for  your  rival,  arrived  in  Paris  with 
two  children  who  are  your  nephews,  and  without  a 
sou.  The  jewels  of  the  mother  scarcely  sufficed  to 
pay  the  passage  of  her  family.  The  information 
which  Louis  Gaston  had  given  the  banker  to  send 
the  money  to  Marie  Gaston  enabled  the  widow  to 
find  the  former  lodging  of  your  husband.  As  your 
Gaston  had  disappeared  without  saying  where  he 
was  going,  Madame  Louis  Gaston  was  sent  to 
D'Arthez,  the  only  person  who  could  give  any  in- 
formation concerning  Marie  Gaston.  D'Arthez  had 
all  the  more  generously  provided  for  the  first 
needs  of  this  young  woman  in  that  Louis  Gaston 
had,  four  years  before,  at  the  date  of  his  marriage, 


316  MEMOIRS  OF 

enquired  for  his  brother  of  our  celebrated  writer, 
knowing  him  to  be  the  friend  of  Marie.  The  cap- 
tain had  enquired  of  D'Arthez  for  some  way  of 
securing  the  payment  of  this  sum  to  Marie  Gaston. 
D'Arthez  had  replied  that  Marie  Gaston  had  become 
rich  through  his  marriage  with  the  Baronne  de 
Macumer.  Their  beauty,  this  magnificent  present 
from  their  mother,  had  saved,  in  the  Indies  as  in 
Paris,  the  two  brothers  from  all  misfortune.  Is  it 
not  a  touching  history?  D'Arthez  had  naturally 
ended  by  writing  to  your  husband  the  condition  in 
which  his  sister-in-law  and  his  nephews  found 
themselves,  and  informing  him  of  the  generous  inten- 
tions which  chance  had  caused  to  miscarry,  but  which 
Gaston  of  the  Indies  had  entertained  for  the  Gaston  of 
Paris.  Your  dear  Gaston,  as  you  may  well  imagine, 
hastened  precipitately  to  Paris.  This  is  the  history 
of  his  first  excursion.  For  the  last  five  years  he  has 
put  aside  fifty  thousand  francs  of  the  income  which 
you  have  forced  him  to  take,  and  he  has  employed 
them  in  the  purchase  of  two  inscriptions  of  twelve 
hundred  francs  of  income  each,  in  the  names  of  his 
nephews ;  then  he  furnished  the  apartment  in  which 
his  sister-in-law  is  living,  promising  her  three  thou- 
sand francs  every  three  months.  This  is  the  his- 
tory of  his  theatrical  labors  and  of  the  pleasure 
which  the  success  of  his  first  piece  caused  him. 
Thus  Madame  Gaston  is  not  your  rival,  and  bears 
your  name  very  legitimately.  A  noble  and  deli- 
cate man  like  Gaston  felt  himself  obliged  to  hide 
this  adventure  from  you,  doubting  your  generosity. 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  317 

Your  husband  did  not  regard  as  his  own  that  which 
you  have  given  him.  D'Arthez  read  to  me  the  letter 
which  he  wrote  him  asking  him  to  be  one  of  the  wit- 
nesses of  your  marriage :  Marie  Gaston  said  in  this 
that  his  happiness  would  be  complete  if  he  had  not 
any  debts  for  you  to  pay  and  if  he  had  been  rich.  A 
virgin  soul  is  not  sufficiently  mistress  of  itself  not 
to  have  such  sentiments:  they  are  or  they  are  not; 
and  when  they  are,  their  delicacy,  their  exactions, 
may  be  conceived.  The  facts  are  simply  that 
Gaston  wished,  himself,  to  provide  secretly  a  com- 
fortable existence  for  the  widow  of  his  brother, 
when  this  woman  had  sent  him  a  hundred  thousand 
crowns  of  her  own  fortune.  She  is  beautiful,  she 
has  a  heart,  distinguished  manners,  but  no  spright- 
liness  of  wit  This  woman  is  a  mother;  is  not  this 
to  say  that  I  was  attached  to  her  as  soon  as  I  saw 
her,  finding  her  with  a  child  in,  her  arms  and  the 
other  dressed  like  the  baby  of  a  lord.  Everything 
for  the  children !  is  her  motto  in  the  smallest  things. 
Thus,  far  from  quarreling  with  your  adored  Gaston, 
you  have  only  new  reasons  for  loving  him!  I  have 
seen  him,  he  is  the  most  charming  young  man  in 
Paris.  Oh  yes!  dear  child,  I  have  very  well  com- 
prehended in  seeing  him  that  a  woman  could  be 
crazy  for  him, — he  has  the  physiognomy  of  his  soul. 
In  your  place,  I  would  take  the  widow  and  the  two 
children  to  the  chalet,  putting  up  for  them  some  de- 
lightful little  cottage,  and  I  would  constitute  them 
my  children !  Reassure  yourself  then,  and  prepare 
in  your  turn  this  surprise  for  Gaston. 


3l8  MEMOIRS  OF 

LVI 

MADAME  GASTON  TO  THE    COMTESSE   DE 
L'ESTORADE 

Ah!  my  well-beloved,  hear  the  terrible,  the  fatal, 
the  insolent  word  of  the  imbecile  Lafayette  to  his 
master,  to  his  king:  It  is  too  late!  Oh!  my  life, 
my  beautiful  life!  what  doctor  will  restore  it  to  me? 
I  am  struck  with  death.  Alas!  am  I  not  a  will-o'- 
the-wisp  of  a  woman  destined  to  extinguish  itself 
after  having  blazed?  My  eyes  are  two  torrents  of 
tears,  and — I  can  only  weep  when  far  from  him.— 
I  fly  him  and  he  seeks  me.  My  despair  is  all  in- 
ward. Dante  forgot  my  torture  in  his  Inferno. 
Come  to  see  me  die! 

LVII 

THE    COMTESSE    DE   L'ESTORADE    TO    THE  COMTE 
DE  L'ESTORADE 

At  the  Chalet,  August  7th. 

My  dear  friend,  take  the  children  and  make  the 
journey  to  Provence  without  me;  I  shall  remain 
with  Louise,  who  has  only  a  few  days  more  to  live: 
1  owe  myself  to  her  and  to  her  husband,  who  will 
go  mad,  I  think. 

Since  the  hint  which  you  know  of  and  which 
made  me  fly  in  the  company  of  the  doctors  to  Ville- 
d'Avray,  I  have  not  left  this  charming  woman  and 
have  not  been  able  to  write  to  you,  for  this  is  the 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  319 

fifteenth  night  which  I  have  passed  here.  When  I 
arrived,  I  found  her  with  Gaston,  beautiful  and 
adorned,  her  countenance  smiling  and  happy.  What 
a  sublime  falsehood!  These  two  beautiful  children 
had  come  to  an  explanation.  For  a  moment  I  was, 
like  Gaston,  the  dupe  of  this  audacity;  but  Louise 
grasped  my  hand  and  said  in  my  ear : 

"He  must  be  deceived,  I  am  dying." 

An  icy  chill  seized  me  on  finding  her  hands  burn- 
ing and  rouge  on  her  cheeks.  I  congratulated  my- 
self on  my  prudence.  I  had  had  the  precaution,  in 
order  not  to  frighten  anyone,  to  ask  the  doctors  to 
walk  about  in  the  woods  while  waiting  till  I  should 
send  for  them. 

"Leave  us  alone,"  she  said  to  Gaston.  "Two 
women  who  see  each  other  again  after  five  years  of 
separation  have  many  secrets  to  confide  to  each 
other,  and  Renee  has  doubtless  some  confidence  to 
make  to  me." 

When  we  were  alone,  she  threw  herself  in  my 
arms  without  being  able  to  restrain  her  tears. 

"What  has  happened?"  I  said  to  her.  "I  have 
brought  you,  in  any  case,  the  first  surgeon  and  the 
first  physician  of  the  Hotel-Dieu,  with  Bianchon; 
there  are  four  of  them." 

"Oh!  if  they  can  save  me,  if  it  is  time,  let  them 
come!"  she  cried.  "The  same  feeling  which  com- 
pelled me  to  die,  now  urges  me  to  live." 

"But  what  have  you  done?" 

"I  have  made  myself  consumptive  in  its  most 
violent  form  in  a  few  days." 


320  MEMOIRS  OF 

"And  how?" 

"I  got  myself  into  a  violent  perspiration  in  the 
night  and  hastened  to  place  myself  on  the  border  of 
the  pond,  in  the  dew.  Gaston  thinks  that  I  have  a 
cold,  and  I  am  dying!" 

"Send  him  to  Paris  quickly;  lam  going  for  the 
doctors  myself,"  I  said,  running  like  one  crazy  to 
the  place  where  I  had  left  them. 

Alas!  my  friend,  after  the  consultation  not  one 
of  these  learned  men  gave  me  the  least  hope. 
They  all  think  that  when  the  leaves  fall  Louise 
will  die.  The  physical  constitution  of  this  dear 
creature  has  singularly  served  her  purpose, — she 
had  natural  dispositions  to  the  malady  which  she 
has  developed ;  she  could  have  lived  for  a  long  time, 
but  in  a  few  days  she  has  rendered  everything 
irreparable. 

I  will  not  tell  you  my  impressions  on  hearing 
this  decree  so  well  founded.  You  know  that  I 
have  lived  as  much  for  Louise  as  for  myself.  I 
remained  overwhelmed,  and  did  not  conduct  to  the 
door  those  cruel  doctors.  With  my  face  bathed  in 
tears,  I  passed  I  do  not  know  how  long  a  time  in 
sorrowful  meditation.  A  celestial  voice  drew  me 
from  my  torpor  with  these  words:  "Well,  I  am 
condemned!"  which  Louise  said  to  me,  placing  her 
hand  on  my  shoulder.  She  caused  me  to  rise  and 
led  me  into  her  little  salon. 

"Do  not  leave  me  again,"  she  asked  me  with  a 
supplicating  look;  "I  do  not  wish  to  see  despair 
around  me;  I  wish  above  all  to  deceive  him,  I  shall 


LOUISE  TO  RENEE 


"I  have  made  myself  consumptive  in  its  most 
violent  form  in  a  few  days" 

''And  how?" 

"  /  got  myself  into  a  violent  perspiration  in  the 
nigJit  and  hastened  tc  place  myself  on  the  border 
of  the  pond,  in  the  dew.  Gaston  thinks  that  I 
have  a  cold,  and  I  am  dying!" 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  321 

have  the  strength  for  it.  I  am  full  of  energy,  of 
youth,  and  I  shall  know  how  to  die  on  my  feet  As 
for  myself,  I  do  not  complain,  I  shall  die  as  I  have 
often  wished  to, — at  thirty,  young,  beautiful,  with 
all  my  faculties.  As  to  him,  I  should  have  rendered 
him  unhappy,  I  see  it.  I  am  taken  in  the  snares  of 
my  love,  like  a  doe  which  drowns  herself  in  strug- 
gling against  being  taken:  of  us  two  I  am  the  doe, 
and  a  very  wild  one.  My  unfounded  jealousies 
have  already  affected  his  heart  in  such  a  manner 
as  to  make  him  suffer.  The  day  on  which  my  sus- 
picions should  have  encountered  indifference,  the 
reward  which  attends  jealousy,  well, — I  should 
have  died.  I  have  had  my  full  account  of  life. 
There  are  beings  who  have  for  sixty  years  been  in 
service  under  the  control  of  the  world  and  who,  in 
fact,  have  not  lived  two  years;  on  the  contrary,  I 
appear  to  be  only  thirty,  but  in  reality  I  have  had 
sixty  years  of  love.  Thus  for  me,  for  him,  this 
denouement  is  happy.  As  to  us  two,  that  is  another 
thing:  you  lose  a  sister  who  loves  you,  and  this  loss 
is  irreparable.  You  alone  here,  you  should  weep 
for  my  death.  My  death,"  she  resumed  after  a 
long  pause  during  which  I  saw  her  only  through  the 
veil  of  my  tears,  "brings  with  it  a  cruel  lesson. 
My  dear  doctor  in  a  corset  is  right:  marriage  should 
not  have  for  its  foundation  passion,  nor  even  love. 
Your  life  is  a  beautiful  and  noble  life,  you  have 
walked  on  your  way,  loving  always  more  and  more 
your  Louis;  whereas  when  the  conjugal  life  begins 
by  an  extreme  ardor,  it  can  but  decrease.  I  have 

21 


322  MEMOIRS  OF 

been  twice  wrong,  and  twice  death  has  come  to 
extinguish  my  happiness  with  his  fleshless  hand. 
He  carried  off  from  me  the  most  noble  and  the  most 
devoted  of  men ;  to-day,  the  skeleton  carries  me  away 
from  the  most  beautiful,  the  most  charming,  the 
most  poetic  spouse  in  the  world.  But  I  have  known 
alternately  the  beau  ideal  of  the  soul  and  of  the 
body.  In  Felipe,  the  soul  dominated  the  body  and 
transformed  it;  in  Gaston,  the  heart,  intellect  and 
beauty  rival  each  other.  I  die  adored,  what  could 
I  wish  more  ? — To  reconcile  myself  with  God  whom 
I  have  neglected  perhaps,  and  towards  whom  1  will 
take  my  flight  full  of  love  in  asking  of  Him  to  restore 
to  me  one  day  these  two  angels  in  the  heavens. 
Without  them,  paradise  would  be  a  desert  for  me. 
My  example  would  be  fatal :  I  am  an  exception. 
As  it  is  impossible  to  encounter  more  than  one  Fe- 
lipe or  more  than  one  Gaston,  the  social  law  is  in 
this  in  accord  with  the  natural  law.  Yes,  the 
woman  is  a  feeble  being  who  should  when  giving 
herself  in  marriage,  make  an  entire  sacrifice  of  her 
will  to  the  man,  who  owes  to  her  in  return  the  sac- 
rifice of  his  egotism.  The  revolts  and  the  tears  of 
which  our  sex  has  been  so  prodigal  in  these  latter 
times  with  so  much  demonstration  are  stupidities 
which  entitle  us  to  be  called  children,  as  so  many 
philosophers  have  done." 

She  continued  to  speak  thus  with  her  soft  voice 
which  you  know,  saying  the  wisest  things  in  her 
elegant  manner,  until  Gaston  entered,  bringing 
from  Paris  his  sister-in-law,  the  two  children  and 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  323 

the  English  nurse  for  the  children  whom  Louise  had 
asked  him  to  get 

"See  my  pretty  executioners,"  she  said  on  seeing 
her  two  nephews.  "Could  I  not  readily  have  de- 
ceived myself?  How  much  they  resemble  their 
uncle!" 

She  was  charming  for  Madame  Gaston  the  elder, 
whom  she  entreated  to  consider  the  chalet  as  her 
own  house,  and  to  whom  she  did  the  honors  of  it 
with  those  manners  a  la  Chaulieu  which  she  pos- 
sesses in  the  highest  degree.  I  wrote  immediately 
to  the  Duchesse  and  to  the  Due  de  Chaulieu,  to  the 
Due  de  Rhetore  and  to  the  Due  de  Lenoncourt- 
Chaulieu,  as  well  as  to  Madeleine.  I  did  well. 
The  next  day,  fatigued  with  so  many  efforts,  Louise 
was  not  able  to  walk;  she  did  not  even  rise  to  be 
present  at  the  dinner.  Madeleine  de  Lenoncourt, 
her  two  brothers  and  her  mother  came  in  the  even- 
ing. The  coldness  which  the  marriage  of  Louise 
had  caused  to  arise  between  her  and  her  family  was 
removed.  Since  that  evening,  the  two  brothers  and 
the  father  of  Louise  come  on  horseback  every  morn- 
ing, and  the  two  duchesses  pass  all  their  evenings 
at  the  chalet  Death  brings  together  as  much  as  it 
separates,  it  silences  unworthy  passions.  Louise  is 
sublime  in  her  grace,  her  reasonableness,  charm, 
wit  and  sensibility.  Up  to  the  last  moment,  she 
displayed  that  taste  which  has  rendered  her  so  cel- 
ebrated, and  dispensed  to  us  freely  the  treasures  of 
that  wit,  which  made  her  one  of  the  queens  of 
Paris. 


324  MEMOIRS  OF 

"I  wish  to  be  pretty  even  in  my  coffin,"  she  said 
to  me,  with  that  smile  which  is  hers  only,  when  tak- 
ing to  her  bed  to  languish  there  for  these  two  weeks. 

In  her  chamber,  there  is  no  trace  of  sickness :  the 
draughts,  the  drugs,  and  all  the  medical  parapherna- 
lia are  hidden. 

"Shall  I  not  make  a  beautiful  corpse?"  she  said 
yesterday  to  the  Cure  of  Sevres,  in  whom  she  has 
confided  all. 

We  take  a  miser's  pride  in  everything  of  hers. 
Gaston,  whom  so  many  anxieties,  so  many  fright- 
ful indications,  have  prepared,  does  not  want  for 
courage,  but  he  is  struck:  I  should  not  be  surprised 
to  see  him  follow  his  wife  naturally.  Yesterday  he 
said  to  me,  while  walking  around  the  sheet  of 
water : 

"I  should  be  the  father  of  those  two  children — . " 
And  he  showed  me  his  sister-in-law  who  was  out 
walking  with  his  nephews.  "But,  although  I  wish 
to  do  nothing  to  take  myself  out  of  this  world, 
promise  me  to  be  a  second  mother  to  them  and  to 
permit  your  husband  to  accept  the  official  guardian- 
ship which  I  will  confide  to  him  conjointly  with  my 
sister-in-law." 

He  said  this  without  the  least  emphasis  and  like 
a  man  who  feels  himself  lost  His  countenance 
replies  with  smiles  to  the  smiles  of  Louise,  and  I 
am  the  only  one  who  is  not  deceived.  He  displays 
a  courage  equal  to  hers.  Louise  has  wished  to  see 
her  godson;  but  I  am  not  grieved  that  he  is  in 
Provence,  she  would  have  been  able  to  be  very 


TWO  YOUNG  WIVES  325 

bountiful  to  him,  which  would  have  embarrassed 
me  considerably. 
Adieu,  my  dear  friend. 

August  25th — the  day  of  her  fete — . 
Yesterday  evening,  Louise  was  for  some  moments 
a  prey  to  delirium;  but  it  was  a  truly  elegant  deli- 
rium which  proves  that  spiritual  people  do  not  be- 
come foolish  like  the  bourgeois  or  like  the  stupid. 
She  sang  in  an  almost  extinguished  voice  some 
Italian  airs  from  the  Puritans,  from  La  Somnambula 
and  from  Moses.  We  were  all  silent  around  the 
bed,  and  we  had  all  of  us,  even  her  brother  Rhetore, 
tears  in  our  eyes,  so  clear  was  it  to  us  that  her  soul 
was  thus  escaping.  She  saw  us  no  longer !  All  her 
grace  was  still  in  the  charms  of  this  song,  feeble 
and  of  a  divine  softness.  Her  agony  commenced  in 
the  night.  I  came  at  seven  o'clock  in  the  morning 
to  raise  her  myself;  she  had  recovered  some 
strength,  she  wished  to  sit  at  her  window,  she 
asked  for  Gaston's  hand — .  Then,  dear  friend,  the 
most  charming  angel  that  we  can  ever  see  on  this 
earth  left  us  nothing  but  her  mortal  body.  Having 
received  the  Sacrament  the  evening  before,  unknown 
to  Gaston,  who  during  the  terrible  ceremony,  had 
snatched  a  little  sleep,  she  had  required  of  me  that 
I  should  read  her  in  French  the  De  Profundis,  while 
she  was  thus  contemplating  the  beautful  bit  of 
nature  which  she  herself  had  created.  She  repeated 
the  words  mentally  and  clasped  the  hands  of  her 
husband,  kneeling  on  the  other  side  of  the  sofa. 


326  MEMOIRS  OF  TWO  YOUNG  WIVES 

August  26th. 

My  heart  is  broken.  I  have  just  seen  her  in  her 
shroud,  she  has  become  pale  in  it  with  violet  tints. 
Oh!  I  wish  to  see  my  children!  my  children! 
Bring  my  children  to  me! 

Paris,  1841. 


LIST  OF    ETCHINGS 


VOLUME  XIII 

PAGE 

LOUISE  AND  FELIPE Fronts. 

LOUISE  AND  THE  BARON  DE  MACUMER 88 

LOUISE  DE  CHAULIEU  AND  THE  SPANIARD 112 

LOUISE   AND   HER   ARCHITECT 257 

LOUISE  TO   RENEE 320 


13  N.  &  R.,  2  Y.  327 


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